0>YV  /       *>/?, 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELA 


venin    paper, 


LOW 


VIOLIJV 


By 

MARY  A. 
DENISON, 

Author  of 
••THE  ROMANCE 
OF  A  SCHOOLBOY1 
etc.,  etc. 

Illustrations 
by 

W.  H.  FRY 


*  Ohio 

SAALFIELV 
TVBLISHIJVG  CO. 

19  O7  Chicago 


COPYRIGHT,  1902, 

BY 
THE  SAAIyFIEIvD   PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


Made  by 

Robert  Smith  Printing  Co., 
Lansing,  Mich. 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  Evenin'  paper,  sir  ? " Frontispiece 

Marie    timidly    entered    the    "room    beautiful"   to  find 

Cousin  Selina,  drinking  tea  by  herself 59 

She  went  toward  Ralph  and  divined  at  once  that  some- 
thing unusual  had  happened 130 

He  held  out  his  arms 272 


2129020 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Marie  Meets  the  Master  5 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Room  Beautiful   19 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Sailor  Boy  and  His  Home    33 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Marie's    Disappointment    43 

CHAPTER  V. 
Marie  Makes  the  Acquaintance  of  Miss  Jack 57 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Marie's   New  Home    68 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Cousin  Fanny's  Dilemma   83 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  Girls'  Conference  101 

CHAPTER  IX. 
What  Came  of  the  Fire   114 

CHAPTER   X. 
The  Professor's  New  Home  130 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Fanny  Makes  Her  Cousin's  Acquaintance '.....144 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Marie's  Interview  with  the  Professor 156 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Miss  Jack's  Dominions  . -  .  169 


CONTENTS— CONTINUED. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  Boy's  Confession   182 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Repentance  and  Forgiveness   196 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Professor's  Proposition   208 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Bidding  for  a  Farm  222 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
What  the  Professor  Thought 235 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Taking  Possession  of  the  New  Home   247 

CHAPTER  XX. 
An  Interview  with  the  Farm  Hand 258 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
The  Real  Ralph  271 

CHAPTER    XXII. 
An  Unlocked  for  Event  288 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Peace,  Hope  and  Home,  at  Last  298 


The  Yellow  Violin. 

CHAPTER  I. 
MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER. 

"Oh,  what  a  splendid  violin!" 

The  child,  she  looked  scarcely  more,  held  her 
breath  for  a  moment,  lost  in  admiration  of  the 
instrument.  It  was  a  bright  yellow,  beautifully  pol- 
ished and  delicately  modelled. 

Standing  there,  her  sparkling  eyes  riveted  upon 
the  violin,  her  lips  smiling,  she  did  not  see  that 
some  one  else  had  also  stopped  and  was  looking 
over  her  shoulder.  A  man,  somewhat  aged  in  ap- 
pearance, though  straight  and  broad  shouldered, 
had  also  been  attracted  by  the  violin,  and  seemed 
on  the  point  of  speaking  to  the  girl. 

Presently  he  espied  under  her  arm  a  package  of 
newspapers,  and  started,  as  the  girl,  turning,  said : 

"Evenin'  paper,  sir?" 

(6) 


6  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,  of  course,"  he  answered,  a 
slight  confusion  in  his  manner.  "Give  me  two 
papers,  please.  It  is  rather  unsual  to  see  a — a 
young  lady  selling  papers,"  he  went  on  with  a 
quick,  searching  look  in  her  face,  as  she  offered  the 
paper,  and  he  gave  her  the  change.  "I  take  it  you 
were  admiring  that  beautiful  instrument?" 

"Yes,  isn't  it  lovely?"  she  asked,  her  eyes  dancing 
as  she  turned  them  again  to  the  window. 

"It's  very  old  and  very  nice,"  he  returned.  "I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  it  were  valuable.  Do  you 
play?" 

"I,  play !"  subdued  excitement  ran  through  the 
words.  "Don't  I  wish  I  could?  Oh,  no.  If  I 
sold  thousands  of  newspapers  I  couldn't  afford  to 
learn  on  any  instrument,  though  I'd  give  worlds 
to  do  it.  No,  I'm  too  poor,  and  since  mother  died 
I've  had  to  work  too  hard." 

What  was  there  in  those  pleading  dark  eyes  that 
deepened  the  man's  interest?  He  had  looked  into 
dark  eyes  many  times  in  his  travels,  but  they  never 
had  stirred  his  heart  before  as  did  those  of  this 
child. 

"I — I'll  take  another  paper,"  he  said,  to  prolong 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  7 

the  interview.  "I  can  give  them  away,"  he 
soliloquized  to  himself. 

"Do  you  always  sell  papers  about  here?"  he  asked 
as  she  smiled  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"Yes,  indeed,  this  is  my  'beat,'  as  the  boys  say. 
They  are  very  kind  to  me,  though  they  did  bother 
me  when  I  first  went  into  the  business,  but  when 
they  got  used  to  seeing  me,  they  let  me  alone.  You 
see,  I  am  small  for  my  age,  but  I'm  really  almost 
sixteen,"  she  went  on,  her  manner  as  artless  as 
that  of  a  child  of  five. 

"And  can  you  keep  yourself,  my  child  ?"  the  man 
asked,  a  pained  expression  in  his  face,  his  lips 
drawn  together. 

"Oh,  I'm  taking  care  of  six.  The  landlord,  when 
my  mother  died,  took  me  right  into  his  family.  To 
be  sure  I  have  to  work  hard  tending  the  shop,  but 
they're  not  unkind  to  me,  sir.  I  must  go.  I  had 
forgotten.  My  mother  always  told  me  I  must  not 
stop  to  talk  with  strangers,"  and  she  moved  back 
a  step  or  two,  smiling  but  timid. 

"My  dear  young  lady,  when  I  tell  you  I  am  a 
music  teacher,  and  was  attracted  by  your  exclama- 
tion at  the  shop  window,  and  that  I  have  some 
pupils  who  pay  me  nothing  for  their  tuition,  you 


8  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

will  not  be  afraid  of  me.  I  am  on  the  look  out  for 
talent,  and  when  I  find  it  I  do  not  always  ask  for 
pay.  What  makes  you  like  the  violin?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,  unless  it  was  mother's  talking 
about  my  father — he  died  years  ago — playing  the 
violin.  It  seems  as  if  I  would  give  all  the  world  to 
know  how.  I  just  love  to  look  at  it." 

''Would  you  mind  giving  me  your  name,  my 
little  girl?"  and  the  man  pulled  a  notebook  from 
his  pocket. 

"My  name  is  Marie/'  she  said,  watching  all  his 
motions,  with  an  undefined  hope  in  her  heart. 

The  man  held  his  pencil  for  a  second  and  looked 
at  her  searchingly. 

"Sweetest  Marie,"  he  said  almost  under  his 
breath. 

"Why,  how  did  you  know  that,  sir?"  she  asked, 
her  face  flushing. 

"Know  what,  my  child?"  he  responded,  now  jot- 
ting down  her  answer  upon  his  tablets. 

"That  I  was  called  sweetest  Marie,  at  least  that 
was  always  what  my  father  called  me.  How  could 
you  know?" 

"Because  I  had  a  little  girl  once  with  just  that 
name,"  said  the  man,  calmly.  "Curious,  isn't  it?" 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  9 

"Very,"  she  answered,  looking  at  him  with  newly 
awakened  interest.  "And  is  your  little  girl  living?" 

"I  lost  her  years  ago,"  said  the  man  in  the  same 
quiet  voice,  but  inwardly  he  was  restraining  himself. 

"Oh,  how  sad,"  the  girl  said,  and  in  her  sweet 
face  were  blended  pity  and  curiosity.  Suddenly 
she  bethought  herself.  "I  am  forgetting  my 
papers,"  she  went  on — "you  will  excuse  me,  I  know. 
All  the  money  I  get  comes  from  selling  these.  They 
never  give  me  any  money  where  I  live,  but  they 
are  very  kind,"  she  made  haste  to  add.  "I  shouldn't 
have  any  home  if  it  wasn't  for  them." 

"Give  me  ten  more  papers,"  and  the  money  was 
in  his  hand.  "I  have  no  right  to  take  up  your  time, 
but  for  the  sake  of  music  I  must  talk  a  little  longer. 
Do  you  know  you  have  only  given  me  your  first 
name?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  and  she  smiled  as  she  handed  him 
the  papers  with  the  remark  that  they  would  make 
too  large  a  bundle. 

"I  don't  mind  bundles,"  he  replied. 

"And  my  name  is  Marie  St.  Anthony.  No  one 
calls  me  sweetest  now." 

At  mention  of  that  name  the  man's  cheeks  grew 
as  white  as  the  curling  moustache  that  almost  con- 


10  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

cealed  his  mouth.  He  drew  his  breath  hard,  two  or 
three  times,  and  was  evidently  battling  with  some 
strong  emotion,  which  he  succeeded  in  suppressing. 

"Now,  if  you  will  give  me  your  present  address," 
he  went  on,  his  searching  glance  on  her  face, 
"because  I  may  wish  to  call.  Perhaps  I  can  find 
you  a  more  congenial  place — where  your  work  will 
be  pleasanter." 

"Oh,  if  you  could !"  the  child  said,  pleadingly.  "I 
am  living  with  a  German  and  his  family.  They 
keep  a  little  grocery,,  and  I  don't  like  to  wait  upon 
the  customers  when  they  want  beer.  I  can  do  the 
other  things  easily,  but  mamma  hated  beer.  Oh, 
I  haven't  given  you  the  street  and  the  number.  It's 
forty-nine  Chapel  street,  right  near  the  big  church. 
You  can't  miss  it." 

"Oh,  no,  I  know  just  where  it  is,"  he  said,  plac- 
ing his  notebook  back  in  his  pocket.  "I  shall  not 
forget  you,  sweetest  Marie." 

The  girl  smiled,  thinking  him  the  handsomest 
old  gentleman  she  had  ever  seen.  And  it  pleased 
her  to  hear  the  old  name  of  endearment,  "sweetest 
Marie."  Her  mother  had  died  with  the  caressing 
name  on  her  lips.  What  sorrowful  as  well  as  pleas- 
ant memories  it  evoked ! 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  II 

When  the  girl  had  gone  the  old  man  still  stood 
at  the  window,  looking  vaguely  in.  He  did  not 
see  the  violin  still  hanging  in  all  its  glittering 
beauty,  for  the  instrument  was  not  in  his  thoughts. 

"The  name — the  name!"  he  muttered.  "Even 
that  is  ignored.  Well,  well,  it  is  better  so.  The 
child's  father  advised  it.  And  she  likes  the  violin. 
How  can  she  help  it?  It  runs  in  her  veins,  the 
love  of  music.  But  I  must  be  cautious.  I  must 
find  out  several  things.  The  father  is  dead — that 
is  well — the  mother  is  dead.  Poor  woman — that 
is  well,  too.  Her  sufferings  are  all  over.  Would 
that — but  no,  that  is  not  for  me  to  say. 

If  the  money  had  only  come  sooner — but  it  will 
still  do  some  good.  Heaven  knows,  I  do  not  want 
it,  only  for  the  child.  Well,  well — we  must  call  it 
a  romance — and  the  child  shall  learn  music — she 
shall  have  the  violin." 

He  went  into  the  store. 

"Let  me  see  that  fiddle,"  he  said,  assuming  a 
careless  manner. 

The  man  behind  the  counter  took  it  down  and 
looked  at  the  tag. 

"What's  it  worth?"  asked  the  customer,  deter- 
mined to  pay  any  price. 


12  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"I  suppose  the  fellow  who  left  it  needs  the 
money/'  was  the  answer.  "I'm  not  an  expert,  but 
I  know  it's  a  pretty  good  one.  Has  to  be  sold — 
shall  buy  it  myself,  if  no  one  else  does.  He  wants 
five  hundred  dollars" — cunningly  advancing  a 
hundred  for  his  own  benefit. 

"Put  it  in  a  case,"  said  the  purchaser,  taking 
from  a  long  narrow  pocketbook  a  roll  of  bills.  "I'll 
take  it  home  myself."  His  quick  eye  had  told  him 
that  the  instrument  was  almost  priceless — but  it 
told  him  also,  something  else — it  had  once,  long 
ago,  and  in  darker  days,  belonged  to  him,  was  an 
heirloom  in  the  family.  The  new  varnish  did  not 
deceive  him,  the  grain  of  the  wood,  the  peculiar 
carving  on  the  neck  of  the  violin,  the  name  on  the 
inside,  the  date,  verified  it.  Many  a  time  his  hand 
had  called  forth  the  tenderest  tones,  wonderful 
chords,  vibrant  melodies.  He  knew  his  own. 

Meantime  Marie,  having  sold  all  her  papers, 
turned  her  steps  homeward.  She  knew  she  had  to 
expect  only  a  cold  supper  and  perfiaps  a  scolding, 
because  she  was  later  than  usual — but  these  she 
was  inured  to,  and  always  received  meekly,  making 
her  excuses.  She  had  known  too  much  suffering 
to  turn  her  back  upon  the  most  meager  surround- 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  13 

ings.  She  had  gone  supperless  to  bed  too  often, 
had  not  known  at  times  where  to  lay  her  head, 
indeed  poverty  had  always  been  her  lot,  and  she  re- 
ceived the  scantiest  consideration  with  gratitude. 
It  was  enough  for  her  that  the  people  she  lived  with 
gave  her  the  chance  to  make  a  few  pennies  every 
day;  she  was  a  grateful  little  soul. 

"You're  late,  miss,"  were  the  first  words  that 
greeted  her.  "The  baby  has  been  crying  for  you 
to  put  .her  to  bed,  and  there's  the  kitchen  to  clean 
up." 

"I'll  put  the  baby  to  bed  first,"  said  Marie,  ignor- 
ing her  healthy  appetite,  "and  then  I'll  do  the 
kitchen." 

The  baby  was  a  girl  of  seven,  who  in  consider- 
ation of  Marie's  standing  in  the  house,  notably  that 
of  a  menial,  lorded  it  over  the  poor  girl,  giving  her 
every  conceivable  trouble,  and  it  was  nearly  an  hour 
before  she  could  prevail  upon  the  child  to  lie  down, 
and  another  hour  before  the  kitchen  was  cleaned  to 
the  satisfaction  of  her  mistress.  All  the  way  she 
could  eat  was  to  snatch  now  and  then  a  mouthful 
of  food  and  a  sup  of  cold  tea. 

"I  won't  stay  so  long  again  for  all  the  handsome 

old  men  there  are  in  creation,"  she  said  as  she  went 
2 


14  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

upstairs  late  at  night,  to  her  dismal  attic  room. 
"But  then,  he  almost  as  much  as  told  me  he  would 
get  me  a  better  place — and  he  hinted  at  helping  me 
in  the  way  of  music.  Oh,  if  I  could  learn  the  violin 
before  I  get  too  old,  1  might  earn  my  living.  I 
know  girls  who  cto — at  least,  I  have  heard  of  them 
— and  I  don't  want  to  be  ungrateful,  but  I  am  so 
tired  of  living  here !  Of  course,  I  am  working  out 
the  rent  poor  mother  owed  when  she  died,  but  sup- 
pose I  have  to  live  on  and  on,  tending  the  children 
ancf  the*  shop,  for  year  after  year.  If  I  could  only 
get  where  I  could  hear  some  music  now  and  then, 
real  music,  not  like  Miss  Emma,  pounding  the  old 
piano,  I  think  I  wouldn't  mind  the  hard  work. 
Well,  maybe  it's  coming." 

It  was  coming — how,  the  girl  never  dreamed. 
She  slept  soundly  that  night;  she  always  slept 
well — rose  at  the  shrill  call  of  the  house 
mother,  early  in  the  morning,  washed  her  hands 
and  face  at  the  pump  just  outside  the  kitchen  door, 
went  the  round  of  her  duties,  even  cheerfully — 
served  in  the  kitchen  and  behind  the  counter,  made 
change  fast  enough  to  please  old  Hans,  the  Dutch- 
man, who  presided  over  the  household,  all  the  time 
buoyed  up  by  the  hope  that  the  handsome  old  man 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  15 

would  make  his  appearance.  Every  time  the  door 
opened  to  admit  a  customer,  her  heart  beat  faster ; 
she  was  almost  sure  he  would  come  that  very  day, 
although  her  reason  told  her  that  she  could  hardly 
expect  him  to  find  that  coveted  place  so  soon.  But 
the  day  passed  with  its  ever  recurring  common- 
places, the  quarreling  of  ill-governed  children,  the 
scoldings  for  inattention,  the  inevitable  beer-selling, 
so  repugnant  to  her  taste,  and  no  stranger  came. 
Again  and  again  she  said  "he  will  come  soon,"  but 
she  looked  for  him  in  vain. 

None  can  tell  with  what  hopes  and  fears  she  put 
on  her  well  worn  hat  and  jacket  and  went  on  the 
street  to  buy  and  sell  her  papers. 

Every  step  behind  her  set  her  heart  to  beating 
faster,  and  she  looked  eagerly  from  face  to  face, 
hoping  to  see  the  white  beard  and  the  luminous, 
kindly  eyes.  She  paused  at  the  shop  window  where 
she  had  met  him,  but  to  her  surprise  and  regret  the 
beautiful  violin  was  gone.  Had  he  bought  it?  she 
wondered.  So  speculating,  she  watched  and  waited, 
but  the  handsome  old  music  master  never  came. 
She  must  go  back  to  the  ordinary  round  of  work, 
uncheered  by  his  smile,  the  sweet  tones  of  his 
voice.  Well,  things  were  no  worse  than  they  had 


16  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

been,  but  she  had  so  longed  for  something  better! 

Presently  she  was  conscious  that  somebody  had 
come  near  her  and  stopped.  She  turned  around. 
This  time  it  was  a  remarkably  pretty  though 
slightly  withered  face  that  met  her  expectant  gaze. 
A  face  that  won  one's  confidence  on  sight,  rose 
pink  in  the  cheeks,  heaven's  blue  in  the  tender 
eyes,  and  lips  so  sweet  and  smiling  that  Marie 
could  not  resist  smiling  herself. 

"My  dear,  you  sell  papers,  I  see/'  she  said. 

"Oh,  yes,"  and  Marie's  fingers  were  on  the 
packet. 

"I'll  take  two,  dear.  It  seems  so  odd,  a  young 
girl  selling  papers  on  the  street — and  yet  I  don't 
know  why  she  shouldn't.  Have  you  a  mother, 
my  dear?" 

"No,  indeed,  both  father  and  mother  are  dead/' 
said  the  girl,  a  sigh  escaping  her  as  she  thought  of 
her  pitiful  past. 

"I  hope  you  make  this  business  pay,  my  dear," 
was  the  next  comment,  as  Marie  counted  some  pen- 
nies into  her  hand. 

"Oh,  never  mind  them,"  the  little  woman  con- 
tinued. "I  hate  to  carry  them  round.  You  are 
quite  welcome — but  do  you  really  earn  a  living? 


MARIE  MEETS  THE  MASTER  17 

Pray  don't  think  I  ask  you  out  of  curiosity.  It's 
because  I  should  like  to  help  you." 

"That's  what  a  gentleman  told  me  yesterday," 
said  Marie,  still  undecided  about  accepting  the 
pennies — "but  I  haven't  seen  him  since,"  and  a  look 
of  regret  came  into  her  face. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  be  very  careful,"  the  little  lady 
said.  "You  have  no  parents — no  one  to  advise 
you.  I  don't  even  like  to  see  a  young  girl  selling 
papers  on  the  street — but,  then,  of  course,  I  have 
no  right  to  advise  you.  Where  do  you  live,  my 
dear?" 

Marie  told  her. 

"And  here  is  my  card — perhaps  I  will  call  and 
see  you,  and  if  you  are  in  any  trouble  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  come  to  me.  I  am  looking  for  a  little  girl 
to  help  me,  but  I  may  not  need  one  for  some  time 
yet.  You  will  remember,  my  dear." 

"Indeed,  I  will  remember,"  said  the  girl,  ear- 
nestly, and  the  little  woman  went  her  way. 

"I  suppose  Hannah  would  say  that's  another  one 
of  my  impulses/'  she  murmured,  as  she  walked ; 
"and  perhaps  it  is.  But  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  really 
couldn't — her  face  attracted  me,  and  the  queerness 
of  it — a  girl  selling  papers !  What  an  independent 


18  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

little  piece  it  is!  And  it  strikes  me  she  is  some- 
thing more  than  she  seems — she  is  so  lady-like — 
so  sweet  in  her  manners.  Oh,  she  never  should  be 
on  the  street — though  she  can  take  care  of  herself— 
there's  no  doubt  of  that,  but  I  don't  think  she  is 
happy,  and — she  is  just  the  sort  of  girl  I  should 
like/' 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  ROOM  BEAUTIFUL. 

Cousin  Selina — everybody  called  her  cousin — 
had  changed  her  street  costume  for  a  pretty  house 
gown,  and  comfortably  seated  in  a  big  rocking 
chair,  she  looked  about  her  with  a  satisfied  smile. 

"I'm  glad  to  be  here,"  she  said,  softly.  '-What  a 
blessing  to  have  a  home !" 

Cousin  Selina  received  a  small  income  which  she 
was  obliged  to  eke  out  in  various  ways,  sometimes 
by  sewing,  sometimes  by  sketching.  Some  years 
before  she  had  rented  a  large,  old-fashioned  house, 
furnished  a  few  rooms,  and  let  them  to  responsible 
people,  generally,  clerks  \vho  did  business  down 
town.  The  house,  rough  cast  and  in  appearance 
somew7hat  imposing,  had  been  built  for  almost  a 
century.  Every  room  was  large  and  light.  Two 
lions  stood  guard  at  the  massive  door,  chains  on 
each  side  sw7ung  from  heavy  iron  pillars,  and  from 
an  arch  over  the  door  hung  a  massive  iron  wrought 


20  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

lantern  that  had  not  been  lighted  for  many  years. 
People  of  culture  and  standing  had  once  owned 
it,  and  evidently  it  had  stood  in  the  midst  of  gar- 
dens. The  houses  around  it  were  much  inferior  in 
dimensions  and  material,  and  as  one  of  the  old 
habitues  said,  it  was  "most  respectable,"  for  Cousin 
Selina  would  admit  to  its  almost  sacred  precincts 
none  but  the  best  men  and  women  who  could  bring 
good  references. 

Her  own  room  was  the  best  one  in  the  house, 
very  large,  and  very  cheerful.  Everybody  ex- 
claimed, on  entering,  "how  lovely!" 

Cousin  Selina  possessed  the  gift  that  fairies  are 
said  to  have.  Everything  she  touched,  with  a  view 
to  improvement,  turned  to  beauty.  If  she  found  a 
good  picture  and  had  not  the  means  to  buy  a  frame 
she  set  to  work  to  make  one,  and  whether  it  were 
shell  or  wood,  or  simple  pasteboard,  some  way  it 
grew  to  be  a  thing  of  beauty  beneath  her  touch. 
She  possessed  much  of  the  old  furniture  and  bric-a- 
brac  of  her  ancestors,  for  when  certain  members  of 
the  family  learned  that  she  had  set  her  mind  on 
taking  care  of  herself,  instead  of  living  here  and 
there  with  relatives  better  off  than  she  was  in 
worldly  goods,  first  one  and  then  another  made 


THE    ROOM    BEAUTIFUL  21 

contributions  from  old  musty  garrets,  of  things 
they  could  not  put  to  use,  themselves,  and  which, 
in  her  heart,  she  had  been  longing  for.  Being  a 
born  artisan,  every  old  chair  was  speedily  made 
useful,  and  the  pliant,  busy  fingers  of  Cousin  Selina 
painted  and  upholstered  and  bedecked,  till  in  her 
big  sunny  room  the  almost  priceless  things  looked 
like  a  royal  outfit. 

It  was  the  "Room  Beautiful,"  one  of  her  nieces 
said  one  day. 

"And,  oh,  Cousin  Selina/'  she  went  on,  "if  I 
could  only  live  with  you,  I  should  be  the  happiest 
girl  in  the  whole  world." 

She  was  very  pretty,  with  blue  eyes  and  rose- 
tinted  cheeks,  and  her  name  was  Anne. 

"You  would  be  better  off  with  your  Aunt  Fanny, 
my  dear,  and  your  cousin  for  company/'  was 
Cousin  Selina's  response  to  Anne's  impetuous 
speech. 

"Never!"  Anne  exclaimed.  "Fanny  is  a  little 
peacock.  Yes,  I  know  you  think  it  ill-natured  of 
me  to  say  it,  but  really,  dearest,  I  wouldn't  take 
her  money  if  I  had  to  have  her  vanity  along  with 
it.  She  can  talk  of  nothing  but  dresses  and  bonnets 
and  ribbons,  receptions  and  balls.  Now,  you  know, 


22  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

I  can't  dress  as  she  does,  with  my  little  money,  and 
I  don't  know  as  I  would  if  I  could.  My  ambition 
runs  in  quite  another  direction.  Well,  I  suppose 
I  must  go.  I  always  hate  to  leave  here,  Cousin 
Selina.  I'm  just  as  happy  as  a  bird  with  you." 

"And  right  welcome  you  are,  always,  my  dear,  to 
my  house  and  my  heart." 

"Yes,  I  know  it.  And  I  am  sure  I  should  be  quite 
another  character  with  you.  I  know  I'm  as  hateful 
as  can  be,  sometimes,  and  it's  foolish  of  me  to  say 
so,  but  I  believe  Aunt  Martha  makes  me  so.  How 
do  you  account  for  it?"  And  the  girl  rose  from  the 
cricket  on  which  she  had  been  sitting  drawing  on 
her  gloves. 

"Well,  my  dear,  maybe  the  fault  is  yours,"  was 
the  gentle  reply. 

"Maybe,"  and  the  girl  sighed.  "Aunt  Martha  is 
always  talking  about  my  duty  in  this  and  my  duty 
in  that,  and  makes  me  feel  as  if  she  expected  me 
to  go  wrong — and  I  get  so  tired  of  it  all.  I  can't 
do  anything  I  want  to,  not  the  least  thing,  without 
consulting  her.  She  just  ties  me,  hand  and  foot. 
You  never  talk  that  way — you  seem  willing  to  trust 
me,  and  I  like  it.  I  like  to  be  thought  of  as  some- 
thing, not  a  nonentity.  With  you,  I  feel  in  the 


THE   ROOM   BEAUTIFUL  23 

presence  of  angels;  I  certainly  do,  Cousin  Selina, 
and  you  needn't  look  so  shocked." 

"Oh,  my  dear!"  exclaimed  Cousin  Selina — "well, 
certainly,  we  are  all  in  the  presence  of  the  angels. 
It  is  a  good  thing  to  feel  so." 

"I  guess  you're  all  made  up  of  love,"  Anne  went 
on,  laughing.  "You  seem  to  love  everybody,  and 
consequently  everybody  loves  you,  even  wicked 
people." 

"Oh,  my  dear,  what  an  assertion,"  and  Cousin 
Selina  tried  to  frown,  while  Anne  pushed  gently 
back  a  crisp  little  white  curl  that  had  wandered 
from  its  confining  comb. 

"But  it's  so,  and  you  know  it,"  said  Anne,  con- 
fidently. 

"Why  certainly  my  heart  goes  out  in  pity  for 
them." 

"Yes,  and  you  go  out,  too,  though  you  never  say 
anything  about  it,  and  do  the  sweetest  little  good 
deeds.  And  Aunt  Martha  thinks  you  are  senti- 
mental, and  foolish  to  spend  your  money,  and  some- 
times quite  raves  over  it." 

"Aunt  Martha  simply  doesn't  understand  me, 
dear." 


24  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Now  I  know  you  think  I'm  a  tale  bearer,  and  so 
I  am.  But  what's  said  is  said,"  returned  the  girl 
in  a  clear  voice.  "Very  likely  she  doesn't  under- 
stand you — nobody  does  but  I — and  oh  I  am  so 
happy  here !  I'm  always  an  hour  saying  good-bye. 
Aunty,  if  I  am  ever  left  alone,  may  I  come  with 
you?  You  won't  call  me  a  torn-boy,  when  I'm  a 
little  rough — say  I  may  come." 

The  girl's  soft  blue  eyes  were  eloquent.  Her 
hand  was  put  forth  as  if  to  make  the  certainty  of 
the  answer  more  real  by  the  touch  of  Cousin 
Selina's  delicate  fingers. 

"You  know  how  welcome  you  would  be,"  said 
the  latter,  nodding  her  head  till  the  silvery  curls 
shook.  "I'll  take  you  in  at  once." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  presently 
old  Miss  Dimmock,  a  sort  of  porteress,  handed  Miss 
Selina  a  note,  and  nodding,  with  a  side  look  at 
Anne,  went  out— a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches — to 
her  quarters,  wherever  they  were.  She  was  a  pro- 
tege of  Cousin  Selina's,  a  woman  who  had  but  few 
friends,  on  account  of  her  erratic  qualities,  which 
no  one  but  Cousin  Selina  could  subdue. 

The  note  was  from  Selina's  half  sister  Hannah, 
and  concluded  thus : 


THE    ROOM    BEAUTIFUL  25 

"Lose  no  time  but  come  as  early  as  possible 
tomorrow.  Perhaps  you  can  come  to  lunch.  I  have 
news  of  importance." 

"What  do  you  suppose  it  can  be?"  she  asked  as 
Anne  stood  by  ready  to  leave. 

"Can't  imagine,  I'm  sure,"  said  Anne.  "Aunt 
Martha  calls  her  an  alarmist.  Of  course  you'll  go 
and  see.  Well,  good-bye.  I'm  really  off,  this 
time,"  and  giving  the  little  woman  a  hug  and  a 
kiss,  she  ran  out  of  the  door,  and  down  the  wide  old 
staircase. 

Meanwhile  Cousin  Selina,  had  read  and  re-read 
the  note  in  which  the  quaint  handwriting  was  some- 
what difficult  to  decipher. 

It  had  been  months  since  Cousin  Selina  had 
visited  her  half  sister,  Mrs.  Hannah  Becket. 

Mrs.  Hannah  lived  in  a  new  and  stylish  brown- 
stone  house  at  the  West  End.  Her  home  was  a 
model  of  elegance,  inside  and  out.  She  was  a  very 
rich  woman,  and  only  tolerated  Cousin  Selina. 
Her  carriage  and  footman  were  never  seen  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  rough-cast  house  down  town. 
Cousin  Selina  either  walked  or  took  the  street  cars 
to  her  sister's  residence.  Several  matters  of  busi- 
ness requiring  her  attention  she  did  not  arrive  at 


26  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

her  half  sister's  till  just  as  the  table  was  being  set  for 
lunch. 

Mrs.  Hannah  greeted  her  with  punctilious  polite- 
ness, and  led  the  way  at  once  to  the  lunch  room, 
where  a  neat  looking  girl  in  white  cap  and  apron 
stood  ready  to  serve  them. 

"I  sent  for  you  because  I  have  some  very  strange 
news  for  you,"  she  said. 

"What  can  it  be?"  Cousin  Selina  asked, 
nervously.  "Is  it  any  misfortune  for  me?  Has 
any  bank  failed?  Is  my  little  money  lost?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,  but  you  are  aware  that  I 
never  talk  business,  or  open  letters,  or  anything  of 
the  sort  before  eating.  I  allow  nothing  to  interfere 
with  my  digestion." 

Needless  to  say  that  the  charm  of  the  well  served 
luncheon  was  gone.  Cousin  Selina  sipped  and 
tasted,  praised  this  and  that,  answered  questions 
almost  at  random,  and  felt  generally  uncomfortable. 
Her  half  sister's  presence  was  by  no  means  reassur- 
in.  Hard  of  countenance,  with  steely  blue  eyes  and 
a  high,  uncompromising  forehead,  thin  lips,  and  a 
shrill  voice,  she  was  a  woman  bound  to  inspire  both 
fear  and  repugnance  in  one  of  a  timid  temperament, 
like  Cousin  Selina. 


THE   ROOM   BEAUTIFUL  27 

When  at  last  they  rose  from  the  table  Mrs.  Han- 
nah led  the  way  into  the  library,  and  the  talk  began. 

"I  thought  I  would  send  for  you/'  said  Mrs. 
Hannah  her  thick  silk  dress  rustling  as  she  took  one 
chair  and  motioned  Cousin  Selina  towards  another, 
"because  I  know  how  much  you  thought  of  our 
brother  Ralph — or,  rather  of  your  brother  Ralph. 
You  were  his  own  sister — I  was  only  a  half  sister." 

"Yes,"  and  Cousin  Selina  winced  as  she  always 
did  when  Mrs.  Hannah  spoke  of  their  relationship. 
"I  was  very  fond  of  brother  Ralph." 

"Do  you  remember  when  his  son  Ralph  ran 
away?"  asked  her  half  sister. 

"Indeed  I  do,"  was  the  reply,  and  Cousin  Selina 
gave  a  short  sigh,  "as  if  it  were  yesterday." 

"It  was  six  or  seven  years  ago." 

"Dear  lad !  that  was  an  awful  time,"  said  Cousin 
Selina,  "an  awful,  awful  time." 

"He  was  a  wild  undisciplined  boy,  and  a  dis- 
grace to  all  his  family"  was  the  half  sister's  quick 
rejoinder.  "I  would  have  adopted  him,  as  you 
know,  made  him  my  heir,  given  him  every  advan- 
tage, but  no,  he  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  Then  I  washed 
my  hands  of  him.  I  told  him  so.  'I  would  not 
help  you/  said  I,  'if  you  came  a  beggar  to  my 


28  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

door.'  How  he  dared  to  refuse  me  when  his  father 
was  so  poor — but  I  am  not  telling  you  my  story. 
Then  came  the  news,  two  or  three  years  ago — I 
think  it  was  as  long  as  that — am  I  right?" 

"Yes,  you  are  quite  right,"  Cousin  Selina  re- 
sponded, wondering  in  her  heart  what  was  coming 
next.  "He  was  drowned,"  her  voice  faltered,  "the 
poor  headstrong,  handsome  lad." 

"Headstrong  enough  I  grant  you.  Handsome — 
well  I  never  cared  for  blonde  boys.  They're  not 
my  style  of  beauty.  I  hate  red  hair,  yes,  decidedly 
headstrong — too  much  so  to  die,  I  guess.  Well 
Selina,  he  wasn't  drowned.  He  has  turned  up." 

Cousin  Selina  grew  deadly  pale.  She  shifted  her 
black  bag  strings  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  and 
looked  ready  to  faint. 

"Not  drowned !"  she  cried  with  trembling,  pas- 
sionate earnestness.  "Not  dead?  Oh  Hannah,  do 
you  mean  it?" 

She  had  risen  and  stretched  out  her  hands  im- 
ploringly. 

"He  didn't  die  at  all — I  repeat  it,"  her  half  sister 
said.  "He  is  alive  today — very  much  alive." 

"Oh,  sister  Hannah !  Oh,  I  can't  believe  it.  It's 
too  good  to  be  true."  She  twisted  and  untwisted 


THE    ROOM    BEAUTIFUL  29 

the  string  of  her  black  bag — her  hands  trembled 
more  than  ever. 

"Selina,  you  are  childish — you — at  your  age," 
said  Mrs.  Hannah,  severity  in  her  voice. 

"I  suppose  I  am,  sister  Hannah,  but,  but  really, 
that  is  news  strange  enough  to  unnerve  any  one, 
young  or  old.  Pray  how  did  you  come  to  know 
of  this?" 

"Because  I  have  a  letter  in  his  own  handwriting. 
Because  he  chose  to  forget  what  I  told  him,  and 
applied  to  me" — she  bridled  as  she  spoke  and  there 
was  disgust  in  her  face. 

"I  can't  credit  it  yet.  I  can't.  Give  me  a  little 
time,"  and  Cousin  Selina's  face  began  to  shine 
like  that  of  an  angel.  "My  dearest  brother's  son! 
My  sweet  Anne's  own  brother !  The  dear  boy !  the 
dear  beautiful  boy !  Why  I'm  almost  beside  my- 
self with  joy !  You  must  excuse  me,  but  I  can't 
help  crying,  indeed  I  can't." 

She  wiped  her  eyes,  conscious  that  she  was  mak- 
ing herself  a  laughing  stock — conscious  that  stately 
Mrs.  Hannah  must  despise  her. 

"Oh  of  course — it's  so  like  you  Selina.  I  am 
thankful  that  I  never  give  way  to  sentiment.  You 
know  your  whole  life  tends  toward  it.  If  you  had 


30  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

invested  your  little  money,  instead  of  spending  it 
upon  your  sentimentalities,  you  might  now  have 
been  well  off." 

"Oh  yes,  I  know.  I  do  let  my  heart  run  away 
with  my  head  sometimes,  but  I  can't  help  it — it's 
the  way  I  was  made,  I  suppose.  But  where  is  the 
dear  boy?  Have  you  brought  him  here?"  asked 
Cousin  Selina. 

"Here!"  and  Mrs.  Hannah's  ire  rose.  "Here 
after  all  I  have  said.  Dear  boy" — she  repeated 
wrathfully—  -"Yes,  he's  likely  to  be  dear  in  more 
senses  than  one.  No,  thank  heaven,  not  here.  But 
I  did  not  tell  you  all.  He  is  sick.  He  has  met  with 
an  accident.  His  left  arm  is  broken — he  is — 

All  Cousin  Selina's  sympathy  rose  at  once. 

"Sick !  broken  arm !"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  whirl 
of  emotion.  "I  must  go  to  him  at  once.  Is  he  in 
the  city?  Tell  me  where  he  is." 

"Well,  he  isn't  a  thousand  miles  off.  and  you  can 
go  to  him  if  you  wish,"  said  her  half  sister,  coldly. 
"The  idea  of  his  appealing  to  me — wanting  me  to 
help  him,  when  I  distinctly  told  him  I  never  would. 
Of  course  you  can  go  to  him.  He  never  practiced 
ingratitude  on  you.  He  is  in  some  low  sailor 
boarding  house,  where  I  never  would  allow  my 


THE   ROOM    BEAUTIFUL  31 

carriage  to  go.  You  can  go  there,  if  you  wish.  I 
start  for  Europe  in  a  few  days,  so  I  could  do  abso- 
lutely nothing,  even  if  I  wanted  to.  Your  best 
course  would  be  to  place  him  in  a  good  hospital.  I 
can  give  you  a  letter  to  one  where  I  am  one  of  the 
lady  managers.  Yes,  decidedly,  the  hospital  is  the 
place  for  him." 

Cousin  Selina  started  from  her  chair.  Her  eyes 
began  to  blaze.  Indignation  burned  in  her  tender 
soul,  but  she  controlled  herself,  as  was  her  wont, 
and  managed  to  ask,  in  a  low  voice : 

"Where  is  he?  Give  me  his  address." 

"Here  is  his  letter.  You  will  find  him  in  Devon- 
shire street,  one  of  those  common  streets  down 
by  the  wharves.  As  long  as  you  have  decided  to 
attend  to  the  matter  here  is  a  fifty  dollar  bill  to  pay 
immediate  expenses.  That  is  all  I  shall  give.  I 
know  you  haven't  any  funds  to  spare.  That  will 
take  him  to  the  hospital  on  Brewer  street — and  I 
will  send  you  a  letter." 

"I  will  go  there  at  once,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
bringing  the  strings  of  her  bag  sharply  together. 

"All  right,  and  you  won't  refuse  the  money." 
Mrs.  Hannah  held  a  long  pocketbook  clasped  with 
silver  in  her  hand. 


32  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Cousin  Selina  struggled  with  herself  for  a 
moment.  Her  inclination  led  her  to  refuse  the 
money,  but  common  sense  prevailed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  SAILOR  BOY  AND  HIS  HOME. 

"Oh  no,  I'm  going  to  take  the  money  for  im- 
mediate use,"  she  said,  beginning  to  put  on  her 
wraps.  "It  all  seems  like  a  dream.  Ralph  alive  !  And 
Anne !  What  will  Anne  say  ?  She  will  be  wild 
with  joy.  Dear  heart,  she  is  like  me." 

''Sister  Martha  won't  like  it.  She  detested  the 
boy  as  much  as  I  did,  and  as  for  Anne,  I  really  pity 
the  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Hannah,  adjusting  one  of  her 
costly  bracelets. 

"Pity  her!  pity  Anne — why  the  girl  will  be  just 
wild  with  delight." 

"More  fool  she,"  was  the  short  answer.  "Yes, 
I  pity  her  for  she  will  have  a  worthless  inefficient 
brother.  These  sailors  are  a  hard  lot.  I  want  none 
of  them  in  my  family." 

"You  don't  know  Anne,"  Cousin  Selina  replied, 
with  rising  indignation.  "She  has  a  good  heart. 

She  has  always  mourned.  Ralph's  death.     And  he 

(33) 


34  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

is  as  yet  a  mere  boy — not  over  eighteen,  and  he 
once  had  noble  impulses." 

"Very  noble" — sneered  Mrs.  Hannah.  "I  sup- 
pose you'd  call  it  noble  to  run  away  and  break  his 
father's  heart.  I  don't.  However,  you  can  see  him. 
I  don't  want  to  dampen  your  enthusiasm,  but  you 
will  probably  find  him  in  the  last  stages  of  con- 
sumption." 

"Oh  the  poor  lad !"  exclaimed  Cousin  Selina, 
"sick  in  a  boarding  house !  I  must  hurry  and  take 
him  away.  If  love  and  skill  can  help  him,  he  shall 
be  cured' 

"Very  well.  You  might  let  me  know  when  he  is 
in  the  hospital.  I  have  some  influence  there  and 
meet  with  the  lady  managers  once  a  month.  But 
for  mercy's  sake  don't  say  he  is  any  kin  of  mine.  I 
can  use  my  influence  and  he  will  be  well  cared  for. 
Besides  I  might  send  him  a  few  flowers,  occasion- 
ally." 

"I'll  be  sure  to  let  you  know,"  was  the  response, 
given  with  a  grim  decision  which  underlaid  her 
words  that  Aunt  Hannah  should  never  hear  that 
the  wayward  boy  had  been  left  in  any  hospital. 

Well,    I    hope   you    may   be   pleasantly   disap- 
pointed," said  Mrs.  Hannah,  rising  and  smoothing 


THE  SAILOR  BOY  AND  HIS  HOME  35 

the  folds  of  her  costly  neglige  gown.  .  "I  wouldn't 
have  him  on  my  hands  for  any  amount  of  money." 

"It's  all  money,  money,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  as 
she  went  down  the  marble  steps,  "never  a  hint  of 
love.  I  wouldn't  have  her  money  if  I  had  to  have 
her  heart  along  with  it." 

She  hurried  out  and  away  from  the  imposing 
portals  of  the  stately  house,  her  mind  in  a  whirl  of 
pleasure,  regret  and  anticipation,  pleasure  at  the 
prodigal's  return,  regret  for  her  half  sister's  worldli- 
ness,  and  a  wild  anticipation  of  seeing  the  face  of 
her  favorite  nephew  whom  they  had  mourned  as 
dead  for  years.  She  hired  a  carriage,  gave  minute 
instructions  to  the  driver,  and  was  driven  directly 
to  the  boarding  house  where  her  nephew,  so 
mysteriously  returned,  was  waiting  the  answer  to 
his  letter.  The  street  was  crowded  and  noisy. 
Children  and  sailors  and  blowsy  women  gave  one 
the  impression  of  a  Babel,  for  the  constant  rein- 
forcement to  the  motley  crowd  spoke  every  lan- 
guage but  English. 

A  German  woman  \vith  a  kind,  motherly  face, 
answered  her  inquiries,  when  she  had  reached  the 
place  designated,  and  at  once  led  her  up  two  pairs 
of  stairs,  where  she  was  ushered  into  a  small,  dark 


36  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

room  with  scarcely  more  furniture  discernable  than 
a  bed  and  a  chair. 

On  the  narrow  flock  bed  a  pale,  handsome  boy 
was  lying,  dressed  in  a  suit  of  sailor  clothes,  and 
evidently  very  weak.  Beautiful  as  were  the  outlines 
of  his  face,  it  was  stamped  with  almost  the  lividness 
of  death.  He  greeted  her  with  a  wan  smile,  and 
his  eyes  grew  bright  at  once. 

'"Are  you  Aunt  Hannah?"  he  asked  in  a  weak, 
trembling  voice.  ''You  got  my  letter?" 

"My  dear  boy!  do  I  look  like  Aunt  Hannah? 
Have  you  forgotten  us  all?  Aunt  Hannah  got 
your  letter  but  she  couldn't  come,  so  I  came  in  her 
place.  I  am  Cousin  Selina,  at  least  that's  what  they 
all  call  me,  if  you  remember  I'm  your  Aunt  Selina." 

"Oh  yes — how  delightful  it  is  to  see  you  here !  I 
have  been  so  much  alone.  The  woman  here  is  good 
to  me,  but  she  can't  leave  her  work — and — and 
there's  my  sister — I  haven't  forgotten  that  I  have  a 
sister,"  and  his  face  brightened. 

"Yes,  Anne — dear  Anne !  She  will  be  overcome 
with  joy,  just  as  I  was,  when  I  heard  of  it.  Oh  to 
think  of  your  being  restored  to  us !  It  is  like  some 
wonderful  romance.  Now  we  must  talk  of  your 
removal.  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  in  this  little  hot 


THE  SAILOR  BOY  AND  HIS  HOME  37 

room.  Sister  Hannah  suggested  the  hospital" — she 
paused  startled  by  a  low,  pained  cry.  The  boy- 
half  lifted  himself — the  haggard  look  had  come 
back. 

"Not  the  hospital — oh  no,  no — not  the  hospital !" 
he  gasped.  "Don't  tell  me  I  must  go  there." 

No  my  dear  boy — no,  no,  not  with  my  permis- 
sion. Lie  down,  dear,  excitement  is  bad  for  you," 
and  bending  over  she  kissed  him.  "I'm  going  to 
take  you  home  with  me.  I'm  going  to  take  care  of 
you,  myself.  I'm  not  rich,  like  your  Aunt  Hannah, 
who  is  to  go  abroad  in  a  few  days,  so  you  see  she 
wasn't  able  to  take  you,  but  I  can  nurse  you  and 
pet  you — Anne  and  I  together,  and  help  you  to 
get  back  your  health.  I  haven't  much  to  offer  you, 
my  dear,  a  pleasant  room  and  an  easy  bed.  Now 
what  do  you  say  to  that  ?" 

He  looked  up  with  a  smile.  The  death-like 
pallor  had  disappeared.  Two  hectic  spots  flushed 
his  cheeks.  The  gratitude  that  shone  from  every 
feature  made  his  face  a  study. 

"If  you  knew  howr  I  hate  the  very  name  of  hospi- 
tal!" he  said,  "you  wouldn't  wonder  that  I  was 
frightened.  You  are  so  kind,  so  good !  I  do  long 
to  get  away  from  this  dreadful  place — and  yet  if 


38  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

you  are  poor,  as  you  said,  how  can  you  take  such  a 
burden  upon  yourself?" 

"My  dear  in  the  first  place  it  will  be  no  burden," 
and  the  sweet  eyes  smiled  into  his.  "My  own  dear 
brother's  son  must  not  think  that.  Dear  boy!  I 
have  no  words  to  express  my  thankfulness  that  you 
are  spared  to  us,  when  we  had  so  long  given  you  up 
for  dead." 

Her  warm  heart  leaped  to  the  lad  who  had  gone 

wrong. 

A  quick  smile  irradiated  his  features,  making  the 
face  which  should  have  worn  the  flush  of  youth 
almost  radiantly  handsome  even  in  its  pallor. 

"Thank  you,  thank  you,"  he  whispered.  "It 
makes  me  feel  almost  well  just  the  thought  of 
leaving  this  place." 

"Are  you  able,  do  you  think?  With  that  band- 
aged arm?  How  did  you  break  it?" 

"I — fell  down  the  hatchway,"  he  said  with  a  little 
hesitation.  "I  was  weak  from  sickness — but  it  is 
ajmost  well." 

"And  please  God  you  shall  be  quite  well  soon," 
she  said,  her  whole  heart  going  out  to  the  son  of 
her  beloved  brother.  How  she  would  watch  and 


THE  SAILOR  BOY  AND  HIS  HOME  39 

tend  him !  He  should  have  the  best  care — the  best 
medical  advice. 

"I  am  very  tired  yet,  but  I  walked  a  little  today. 
Perhaps  I  could  better  go  tomorrow." 

"Yes,  perhaps  you  could,"  she  said  stroking  back 
the  bright  curls  from  his  temples.  "Keep  up  your 
heart,  my  dear  boy,  you  are  going  home.  You 
are  much  like  your  father,  but  who  would  have 
thought  your  hair  would  grow  so  brown?  I  re- 
member it,  light,  almost  flaxen.  And  it  seems  to 
me  the  boy  who  left  us  had  no  curls.  His  hair  was 
straight  and  yellow." 

"Oh,  my  hair  has  been  often  cut — shaved — 
fevers  in  foreign  ports  you  know,"  he  murmured, 
"one  changes  so  much." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  musn't  forget  that  you  have  sailed 
and  sailed,  like  Captain  Kidd,  and  seen  foreign 
countries,  and  all  sorts  of  wonderful  things,"  she 
said.  "How  much  you  will  have  to  tell  me  when 
you  are  getting  better.  With  the  old  couch  drawn 
up  to  the  fire,  on  winter  evenings,  it  will  be  so 
delightful  to  listen  to  it  all.  I'm  a  great  traveller, 
myself,  but  only  through  books.  But  I  must 
remember  that  you  are  weak  and  ill.  Tomorrow, 
please  God,  you  will  be  stronger." 


40  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

When  Cousin  Selina  went  down  stairs  she  left 
money  for  some  fruit,  and  what  little  delicacies  for 
the  invalid  she  could  think  of,  in  the  hands  of  the 
landlady,  who  regarded  her  with  admiring  glances 
and  seemed  to  feel  the  better  stirring  of  a  heart 
seldom  touched  by  sympathy. 

Cousin  Selina  went  home  happier  than  she  had 
been  for  years.  Of  all  her  brothers  Ralph's  father 
had  been  the  most  lovable  and  the  most  unsuccess- 
ful. None  of  his  family  were  living  but  Anne,  who 
had  in  a  way  been  adopted  by  her  Aunt  Martha, 
the  coldest  and  most  unsympathetic  of  the  three 
sisters  who  remained. 

After  Cousin  Selina  had  gone,  the  invalid  lay  for 
some  time  looking  reflectively  from  the  dark  win- 
dow near  his  bed.  The  noise  of  street  sounds 
reached  him  but  faintly,  now  and  then  an  uncertain 
step  went  past  his  door. 

"So  Aunt  Hannah  doesn't  want  me,"  he  solilo- 
quised, "and  Aunt  Selina  does — and — so  does  the 
sister.  Thank  God  that  I've  not  got  to  go  to  a 
hospital.  This  blessed  illness  has  nearly  put  an 
end  to  me.  I  wonder  if  I  can  manage  to  get  up  and 
look  in  the  old  chest." 

He  moved  uneasily  with  his  bandaged  arm,  but 


THE  SAILOR  BOY  AND  HIS  HOME  41 

managed  to  lift  himself  and  reached  his  trunk.  This 
he  looked  over  carefully,  selected  some  letters,  a 
picture  or  two  and  hobbled  back  to  bed.  Some 
strong  emotion  assailed  him,  as  he  looked  over  the 
letters.  Once  he  raised  his  eyes  and  his  well  arm, 
and  a  look  of  agonized  entreaty  crossed  his  face  as 
he  cried : 

"Forgive  me !  forgive  me !"  and  then  as  foot- 
steps approached  his  door,  he  thrust  the  letters 
under  the  pillow  just  as  the  landlady  came  in  with 
a  tray  the  sight  of  which  gladdened  his  sick  eyes, 
'for  on  it  were  piled  oranges  and  grapes  and  luscious 
fruits.  Then  talking  volubly  all  the  time,  she  drew 
a  table  deftly  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  covered  it 
with  a  cloth  as  white  as  snow,  and  presently  came 
up  again  with  tea  and  bread  and  butter,  and  a 
juicy  steak. 

"Blessed  Cousin  Selina,"  he  murmured,  as  the 
generous  variety  tempted  his  appetite.  "I  wonder 
if  there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  ever  repay  her? 
If  there  is  I  will  find  it." 

After  he  had  eaten  and  the  dishes  were  removed, 
he  asked  for  a  candle,  and  it  was  promptly  brought. 
Hitherto  he  had  passed  his  restless  nights  in  dark- 
ness. Now,  propped  up  in  bed,  he  read  and  re-read 


42  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

the  letters  which  were  yellow  with  time  and  creased 
with  use. 

"I  think  I  know  them  fairly  well  now,"  he 
muttered,  "perhaps  I  had  better  burn  them." 

With  much  exertion  he  carried  them  to  the  little 
grate,  went  back  for  the  candle  which  he  set  on  the 
hearth,  then  holding  the  letters  up  one  by  one,  over 
the  flame  of  the  candle,  he  burned  them  all,  letting 
the  ashes  fall  into  the  grate. 

"There",  he  panted — "now  there  is  no  danger. 
Now  I  can  claim  home,  family  and  friends,  and  feel 
no  longer  like  an  outcast.  Tomorrow !  tomorrow  ! 
It  will  be  the  beginning  of  a  new  life.  All  the  old 
miseries  and  shames  will  fall  away  from  me,  for- 
ever, forever!" 

So  he  crept  back  to  bed  and  put  his  candle  out. 

As  for  Cousin  Selina,  she  had  scarcely  taken 
off  her  wraps,  on  her  return  home,  when  there 
burst  into  her  room  the  beauty  of  a  bright  young 
face,  and  the  rare  perfume  of  flowers. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MARIE'S  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

It  was  Anne. 

"I  remembered  that  this  is  your  birthday,  Cousin 
Selina,"  she  said,  "and  see  what  I  have  brought 
you." 

"Oh  the  lovely  things !  Bless  the  precious  girl 
who  brought  them !"  exclaimed  the  little  woman 
kissing  the  blushing  cheeks  and  making  them 
rosier  than  before. 

"Aren't  they  beauties?  Aunt  Martha  gave  me  a 
dollar  for  sewing  I  did  for  her,  so  I  went  right  over 
and  bought  them  with  my  own  money.  Now  I'll 
make  you  a  boquet  for  each  window.  Oh,  how 
I  do  love  flowers !  If  only  you  lived  in  the  country, 
Cousin  Selina !  Just  fancy,  a  pretty  farm  house,  a  big 
garden,  plenty  of  old  gnarled  apple  trees — gnarled 
apple  trees  sounds  so  old  fashioned,  you  know — 
plum  orchards,  peaches,  cherries !  Oh,  it  makes 

my  head  swim  just  to  think  of  it.     Wouldn't  I  be 

(43) 


44  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

with  you,  then?  I'd  run  away,  I  certainly  would. 
School  and  books  might  go.  I'm  half  crazy  to 
raise  chickens,  and  keep  a  frog  farm — oh,  I'd  find 
plenty  to  do.  But  what  makes  you  look  so  queer? 
Something  has  happened.  Oh  wouldn't  it  be  de- 
lightful if  you  did  buy  a  farm  ?" 

"Dear  child  I'm  not  rich  enough,"  was  the 
smiling  answer.  "Buy  a  farm,  indeed  I'd  do  it 
tomorrow  if  I  could.  No  it's  not  that  that  makes 
me  look  so  queer,  as  you  put  it.  Now  suppose  you 
set  the  table.  I've  made  a  honey  cake,  and  we'll 
have  tea,  if  you  will  make  it,  for  I've  been  to  your 
Aunt  Hannah's  and  I'm  very  tired." 

"You  poor  thing — you  must  be.  I  never  go 
there,  if  I  can  help  it.  Things  look  so  stiff  and 
decided  there,  just  as  Aunt  Hannah  looks.  Let  me 
see — oh  I  know  where  the  table  cloth  is,  in  the  left 
hand  side  of  the  cedar  drawer.  Now  you'll  see 
how  well  I  can  set  the  table.  What  a  splendid  old 
cloth!  And  how  spicy  it  smells!  Now  for  the  dear 
little  egg  shell  cups  and  saucers,  the  bread,  and 
butter  and  honey  cake  and  cream — oh  how  I'd  like 
to  set  the  table  for  you  every  day.  Aunt  Hannah 
sent  for  you  didn't  she?  Was  it  anything  so  very 
particular?  Was  it  a  sort  of  a  fairy  tale,  and  did 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  45 

she  give  you  lots  of  money  for  your  little  charities?" 

She  had  bustled  about  to  some  purpose,  for  the 
kettle  was  singing,  the  tea  was  made,  and  the  girl 
drew  up  two  of  the  precious  old  fashioned  chairs, 
that  Cousin  Selina  had  re-touched  and  had  repaired, 
to  the  table. 

"It  certainly  seems  good  to  have  somebody  to 
do  these  little  things  for  me,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
wondering  how  she  should  break  the  news ;  and  she 
sipped  the  fragrant  tea  with  zest. 

"Can't  you  make  a  requisition — can't  you  get  me, 
in  some  way  ?  I'd  do  lots  of  work  between  schools 
— I  really  could  earn  my  living.  And  then  to  be 
with  you  all  the  time !  Wouldn't  it  be  too  utterly 
lovely?" 

She  rolled  up  her  eyes  and  placed  her  hand  on 
her  heart.  Aunt  Selina  laughed. 

"I  believe  it  would  make  me  young  again,"  she 
said. 

Yes,  I'd  be  a  grand  restorative  of  youth — better 
than  all  the  advertised  ones.  Do  try  me,  Cousin 
Selina.  I  haven't  got  anybody  I  really  love  but 
you.  I'm  a  poor  orphan.  Oh  can't  you  adopt  me, 

Cousin  Selina?" 
4 


46  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

The  little  woman  laughed  but  there  were  tears  in 
her  eyes.  Anne's  little  speech  had  touched  her,  in 
view  of  what  she  had  just  seen.  Anne  looked  at  her 
earnestly  before  she  spoke  again. 

"You  have  something  nice  to  tell  me,"  she  said. 
"How  your  eyes  sparkle!  You've  been  helping- 
some  poor  soul,  that's  what  it  is.  Come  now,  tell 
me  all  about  it." 

"Well  dear,  I  will.  Your  Aunt  Hannah  wanted 
to  tell  me  some  very  wonderful  news."  Cousin 
Selina  held  her  cup  out  for  some  more  tea.  "Do 
you  remember  your  brother  Ralph?" 

"Do  I  remember  him,  my  handsome  brother 
Ralph?  I  should  think  I  did.  He  was  twelve  years 
old  when  he  went  away — I  was  younger.  I  loved 
him  dearly  and  I  have  never  forgotten  him.  Ah 
so  often  I  have  wished  that  he  had  lived.  To  have 
a  brother,  as  some  of  the  other  girls  have,  would  be 
so  glorious.  How  you  look  at  me!  What  is  it 
you  have  to  tell  me?"  The  girl  half  rose.  "Was 
there  any  mistake?  I  have  often  thought  maybe  he 
was  not  drowned  and  pictured  him  coming  home. 
What  is  it,  Cousin  Selina?  I  know  you  have  some 
good  news  for  me." 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  47 

Cousin  Selina's  eyes  were  swimming  in  tears, 
but  a  sweet  smile  parted  her  lips.  She  seemed 
to  Anne  like  a  tender  spirit  sent  from  heaven  to 
comfort  and  bless  the  sorrowful. 

"Yes  dear,  I  have  good  news  for  you,  news  that 
heartened  me  into  new  life  and  made  me  happier 
than  I  have  been  for  years.  Your  brother  Ralph 
was  not  drowned.  How  and  by  what  means  he 
was  saved,  I  do  not  yet  know,  but  he  will  probably 
tell  us." 

"Oh  Cousin  Selina  !  I  cannot  realize  it.  It  seems 
too  good  to  be  true." 

The  girl's  face  was  a  study.  She  sat  with  hands 
tightly  clasped,  her  eyes  fastened  eagerly  upon 
the  little  woman  as  she  related  the  progress  of  the 
affair,  from  the  interview  at  the  luncheon,  to  find- 
ing the  young  lad  at  his  transient  home  and  her 
intention  to  care  for  him. 

"Oh  Cousin  Selina,  and  Aunt  Hannah  with  that 
great  house  and  all  her  money,  and  not  a  chick  nor  a 
child,  to  put  that  burden  upon  you !  Do  you  know 
you  look  like  an  angel  to  me.  And  Aunt  Hannah 
would  have  sent  him  to  the  hospital,  as  if  he  were 
a  stranger  instead  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood.  But 
she  would  have  had  to  reckon  with  me,  first.  My 


48  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

own  dear  brother.  Is  he  so  very  sick  and  weak? 
Do  you  think  he  will  die?  Shall  I  find  him  only 
to  lose  him  again  ?" 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it,  my  dear." 

"I  feel  as  if  I  could  fly  to  him.  I  wish  I  had 
known  and  could  have  gone  there  with  you/'  Anne 
said. 

"Better  not,  my  dear.  You  will  see  him  here, 
tomorrow,  I  hope,  and  you  must  be  very  quiet, 
very  calm,  for  I  grieve  to  say  he  is  yet  quite  weak, 
almost  too  weak  to  talk.  I  shall  have  our  Doctor 
Bridges,  at  once." 

"But  Cousin  Selina — where  will  you  put  him?" 
asked  Anne. 

"Right  here  in  the  alcove  where  1  can  have  a 
constant  oversight  of  him.  While  he  requires  at- 
tention I  shall  sleep  on  the  big  lounge.  Oh  there 
is  plenty  of  room.  There  are  two  or  three  lodger's 
rooms  empty.  I  could  put  him  upstairs  in  the  fur- 
nished room  over  this,  but  as  I  say,  he  demands 
constant  attention,  and  here  is  the  best  place.  A 
curtain  at  the  alcove  you  see  will  be  all  we  need." 

Anne  listened  and  acquiesced  with  every  loving 
little  detail  for  the  invalid's  comfort. 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  49 

So  after  tea  they  sat  together  both  happy  in  the 
realization  of  their  dearest  wishes,  till  the  coming 
darkness  startled  Anne  to  something  like  fear. 

"I  must  hurry  home/'  she  said,  "and  oh  I  wonder 
what  Aunt  Martha  will  say?  She  sometimes  talks 
of  poor  Ralph,  and  never  says  one  good  word  for 
him,  and  she  hates  poor  and  common-place  people, 
such  as  she  thinks  sailors  are.  I  dread  to  tell  her."- 

"Never  mind  dear.  Perhaps  like  Aunt  Hannah 
she  may  fear  that  she  will  be  called  upon  to  con- 
tribute to  his  support,  but  no  one  shall  have  him 
and  no  one  shall  help  him  beside  me.  I  have  a 
little  money  in  the  bank,  and  I  shall  spend  it  for 
his  comfort.  He  is  my  charge.  And  I  am  going 
home  with  you  for  it  is  too  late  for  a  young  girl  to 
be  on  the  street  alone." 

"Now  indeed,"  thought  Cousin  Selina,  on  her 
way  back,  "I  shall  need  that  young  girl  with  the 
newspapers.  I  fancy  she  is  not  very  happy  where 
she  is,  and  I  don't  like  her  to  be  there,  such  a  pretty, 
interesting  little  thing!  Tomorrow  morning  I'll 
hunt  her  up." 

Sweetest  Marie  was  waiting  very  patiently  to  be 
hunted  up.  She  had  looked  almost  every  hour  of 
every  day  since  the  old  man  spoke  to  her,  for  his 


60  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

appearance — and  all  the  second  day  she  was  in  a 
state  of  expectancy  that  did  not  conduce  either  to 
her  happiness  or  her  ability  in  the  matter  of  work  in 
the  shop,  and  she  received  repeated  scoldings  on  ac- 
count of  her  inattention.  The  housemother  had 
been  complaining  for  some  days,  and  she  was  irrit- 
able. The  shop  was  to  be  cleaned  and  the  char- 
woman did  not  come,  so  Marie  was  charged  to 
wash  the  sloppy  floor,  and  dust  the  counters  with 
a  damp  cloth.  Then  there  was  the  child  to  undress 
and  the  kitchen  to  clean.  The  girl  ached  all  over 
when  she  reached  her  garret  late  at  night. 

"He's  never  coming,  she  said  to  herself  as  she 
laid  her  tired  limbs  on  the  hard  unyielding  mattress. 
"And  I  guess  she's  never  coming  either,  the 
woman  with  the  sweet  face.  I  wonder  if  they 
know  what  it  is  to  be  promised,  and  then  doomed 
to  disappointment,  time  after  time?  They  mean 
well  but  they  forget." 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  Marie  was  called  from 
her  bed.  The  mistress  was  very  sick,  and  the  girl 
was  ordered  to  dress  and  go  for  the  doctor.  Then 
one  thing  after  another  detained  her,  either  by  the 
doctor's  request,  or  orders  from  the  Dutchman, 
who  never  left  his  wife.  After  a  little  sleep  in  the 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  51 

gray  of  the  morning,  she  was  wakened  by  sobs. 
The  baby  had  come  to  her  for  comfort — for  sister 
Ada  was  in  her  own  room,  she  said,  and  wouldn't 
let  her  in.  Mother  was  dead,  and  she  had  nobody 
to  go  to,  except  this  poor  patient  slave.  All  the 
duties  of  the  household  fell  to  her  lot.  None  of  the 
family  came  down  to  lend  a  helping  hand.  She 
prepared  the  breakfast,  attended  to  the  wants  of  the 
children,  and  was  called  hither  and  thither  till  her 
brain  was  distracted. 

"You  will  haf  to  work  harder  now,"  the  Dutch- 
man found  time  to  say,  "but  I  will  pay  you  some- 
thing." 

Work  harder,  it  was  something  terrible  to  look 
forward  to.  If  it  had  seemed  to  her  before  that  she 
never  had  any  rest,  what  would  it  be  now?  To  be 
sure  the  shop  was  shut,  but  the  children  were  just 
as  peremptory  in  all  their  orders,  and  she  was 
harassed  at  the  multiplicity  of  her  duties.  Called 
from  one  place  to  the  other,  from  work  upstairs  to 
work  down  stairs,  worried,  almost  frightened  by 
the  terrible  suddenness  of  the  event,  forced  to  hear 
the  mourning  and  complaining  in  every  part  of  the 
house,  she  sat  down  at  last  in  the  midst  of  the  tur- 
moil to  have  a  little  cry  all  to  herself,  and  to 


52  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

speculate  on  the  futility  of  the  promises  she  had 
listened  to  so  eagerly.  A  child  had  been  hired  to 
answer  the  bell,  but  every  one  who  came  expected 
to  eat  something,  it  was  the  custom,  and  the  dish- 
washing seemed  endless.  Her  arms  were  tired  cut- 
ting the  huge  German  loaves — her  head  ached,  her 
heart  ached. 

"If  only  they  had  come,  either  of  them,"  she  said 
to  herself  with  a  pitiful  little  sob.  "I  never  can  do 
all  this  work,  I  never  can,  even  if  they  get  some  one 
to  tend  the  shop." 

Then  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to  her.  The 
lady's  card.  It  had  told  her  just  where  to  go.  As 
soon  as  she  could  she  ran  upstairs  and  found  it. 
Something  told  her  that  now  it  would  be  a  difficult 
thing,  no  matter  who  requested  it,  to  leave  the 
Dutchman  and  his  family.  He  would  say  the  girl 
was  working  out  the  rent — her  mother  had  owed 
at  the  time  of  her  death.  She  had  never  liked  him. 
When  he  tried  to  treat  her  as  one  of  the  household 
her  breath  came  shorter  and  she  felt  like  resenting 
it.  She  had  been  in  a  way  fond  of  his  wife,  who 
had  at  times  been  very  kind  to  her  mother,  during 
her  long  illness,  but  now  she  was  gone,  and  the 
place  would  seem  dreary  and  desolate  in  spite  of 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  53 

the  domineering  children,  who  made  her  life  hard 
at  all  times. 

Why  should  she  not  help  herself  to  liberty?  The 
old  man  she  could  not  find,  the  sweet-faced  woman, 
she  could.  She  knew  just  where  to  go. 

Relieved  by  this  thought  she  dried  her  eyes,  her 
whole  soul  intent  on  the  scheme  of  escape.  New 
orders  came  down,  new  company  arrived.  More 
dishes  to  wash,  more  bread  and  meat  to  cut,  more 
tea  to  make.  Over  and  over  again  the  everlasting 
eulogies,  the  stereotyped  condolence,  and  then 
eating  and  drinking. 

During  the  lull  in  the  confusion,  she  managed  to 
escape  to  her  garret,  and  gather  together  all  her 
little  valuables.  They  were  very  few  in  number — a 
tiny  Maltese  cross  that  had  belonged  to  her  mother, 
a  ring  and  a  silver  brooch — a  few  dresses,  a  few 
aprons.  They  made  a  pitifully  small  bundle,  but 
she  managed  to  get  it  down  stairs  and  hide  it  in 
the  yard.  How  she  was  going,  by  what  manner  of 
escape,  she  did  not  know,  but  go  she  would.  The 
house  looked  hideous  to  her,  now,  with  all  the 
elements  of  mourning  about  it.  The  children  had 
always  domineered  over  her — they  did  not  love  her, 
even  the  youngest  treated  her  with  scant  attention 


54  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

when  she  found  that  the  slave  could  be  of  no  use  to 
her.  There  was  no  heartache  about  it.  She  heard 
people  say  under  their  breath — that  the  "poor 
creature,  was  worked  to  death,"  meaning  the  house- 
mother lying  so  still  upstairs  with  her  hands  folded 
on  her  breast,  and  she  could  testify  in  her  small 
way  to  the  fact.  For  she,  with  the  young  blood 
tingling  in  her  veins,  and  the  spring  of  youth  in 
her  footsteps,  had  been  often  too  weary  to  sleep 
and  she  had  only  been  a  helper  in  small  matters 
about  the  house.  Surely  it  was  not  wrong  for  her 
to  go,  when  the  only  being  that  had  treated  her  with 
any  motherly  care  had  gone  forever.  Oh  no,  for 
how  could  she  give  good  service  to  people  she  dis- 
liked, almost  despised?  The  oldest  girl  would  miss 
her,  because  she  depended  on  her  in  little  matters  of 
taste,  and  looked  for  her  aid  when  she  put  on  all 
her  small  vanities  on  a  Sunday — but  not  for  any 
real  regard.  Had  they  not  often  spoken  harshly 
to  her  when  she  had  lingered  to  listen  to  a  little 
music,  or  to  see  them  at  their  play?  No  they  cared 
nothing  for  her,  nor  she  for  them.  It  would  be 
quits  all  round  and  a  happy  parting  with  their  rude 
tricks,  and  misplaced  jests,  which  her  soul  abhorred. 


MARIE'S    DISAPPOINTMENT  55 

Now  her  thoughts  were  all  centered  on  the  way 
to  go.  The  Dutchman  came  down  stairs  and  or- 
dered her  to  draw  some  beer.  She  went  up  with 
a  shudder  into  the  dark  shop.  The  small  light  flared 
and  the  shadows  danced  in  grotesque  distortion. 
The  girl  heaved  a  long,  sobbing  breath  from  sheer 
fright,  and  drew  the  beer  with  trembling  fingers 
and  face  as  white  as  a  sheet.  Then  she  ran  back  at 
the  risk  of  letting  the  pitcher  fall,  hoping  that  she 
would  not  be  asked  again.  Providence  favored  her. 
She  was  called  upstairs  into  the  parlor,  where  one 
or  two  of  the  family  sat  with  some  cousins. 

"Marie,"  said  the  eldest  girl,  "I  want  you  to  go 
at  once  to  the  dressmaker's,  to  carry  some  buttons, 
which  I  forgot.  You  are  not  to  stay,  because  there 
is  nobody  in  the  kitchen  but  you,  and  you  are  to 
hurry  all  you  can.  I  don't  think  there'll  be  any 
message,  if  there  is,  pray  don't  forget  it." 

She  placed  a  small  package  in  the  girl's  hand,  and 
Marie  turned  away  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  She  would 
get  her  little  bundle  from  the  yard,  and  go  at  once. 

"I'll  do  the  errand  all  right,"  she  said  to  herself 
as  she  slowly  left  the  room,  "but  I  will  never  come 
back,  never.  Oh,  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  get  away 
from  them." 


66  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Yes,  that  was  the  feeling,  glad  to  get  away,  any- 
where— to  form  new  ties,  to  see  new  scenes.  For 
years  and  years  she  had  been  chained  beside  the 
bed  of  sickness,  but  until  a  way  had  seemed  to  be 
opened  by  the  interest  felt  in  her  by  two  strangers, 
both  of  them  anxious  for  her  welfare,  she  had  been 
content  to  wear  her  chains  as  youth  wears  chains, 
restlessly  but  unable  to  help  herself. 

She  hurried  on,  reasoning  as  ignorance  reasons, 
an  unnamed  fear  at  her  heart  that  after  all  she 
should  be  thwarted  if  she  allowed  herself  to  loiter, 
and  if  she  could  only  find  the  destination  she  had 
set  out  for,  she  should  be  safe  from  all  further  ill. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MARIE   MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  MISS 
JACK. 

So  she  delivered  her  errand  at  the  dressmaker's, 
and  there  was  no  message  to  be  returned.  Thank- 
ful for  this  respite,  she  hurried  eagerly  towards  the 
street  designated  by  Cousin  Selina.  She  knew  the 
place,  past  a  large  public  square,  past  the  cathedral, 
where  great  windows  were  showing  faint  light 
against  the  coming  darkness — and  one  square  from 
the  commons,  as  a  large  open  space  was  called, 
there  stood  the  house,  brown  and  respectable,  its 
door  chains  swinging  slightly  in  the  wind,  its  un- 
lighted  lamp  showing  huge  above  the  portals. 

Panting  and  eager  though  she  was,  she  seated 
herself  on  the  stone  steps  to  gather  her  wits 
together  and  to  take  breath.  The  house  seemed  so 
large,  and  the  woman  as  she  remembered  her  so 
little. 

"What  will  she  say  ?"  she  thought.    "Perhaps  she 

has  changed  her  mind  and  don't  want  a  girl,  now," 

(57) 


58  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

and  then,  very  timidly  she  rang  the  bell  low  down 
by  the  side  of  the  door. 

One  of  the  queerest  little  apparitions  that  had 
ever  met  her  sight  issued  apparently  from  the  earth 
at  her  feet,  a  woman  old  and  wizzened,  with  large 
hollow  eyes,  sunken  cheeks,  a  wrinkled  face,  at  the 
same  time  child-like  and  placid,  with  long  gray 
curls  hanging  on  either  side  of  her  cheeks.  Marie 
looked  down  and  the  little  old  woman  looked  up. 

''What  did  ye  want,  child?"  asked  the  new 
comer,  "ringing  at  the  door  of  my  father's." 

"Mercy,"  thought  Marie,  somewhat  startled,  but 
she  found  voice  to  answer. 

"I  am  looking  for  the  lady  whose  name  is  on  this 
card/'  and  she  read  it  aloud. 

"Oh,  the  angel  of  mercy ;  yes,  yes.  You  should 
have  used  the  knocker,  the  bell  is  for  my  domain. 
I  am  the  sole  remaining  daughter  of  my  family. 
Once  all  these  broad  acres  were  mine.  My  grand- 
father built  this  house,  and  here  was  I  born — here 
I  grew  up,  and  here  I  shall  die.  First  room  to  the 
right  on  the  second  floor — the  front  door  is  never 
locked,  and  may  you  prosper  in  your  business." 

She  waved  her  shrivelled  arms,  and  drawing  the 


Marie  timidly  entered  the  "room  beautiful"  to  find  Cousin 
Selina,  drinking  tea  by  herself 


MARIE  MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  MISS  JACK        59 

mantle  about  her  weird  figure,  disappeared  seem- 
ingly into  the  earth  again. 

Marie  tried  the  door  knob,  and  as  the  little  wiz- 
zened  creature  had  said,  the  door  swung  back  into 
a  broad  long  entry,  well  lighted  and  showing  :. 
circular  staircase,  up  which  Marie  toiled  slowly,  till 
she  came  to  the  door  designated. 

"Come  in,"  said  a  clear,  sweet  voice,  and  Marie 
timidly  entered  the  "room  beautiful,"  to  find 
Cousin  Selina  sitting  in  a  large  easy  chair,  drinking 
tea  by  herself. 

"Oh,  come  here,  my  dear;  you  are  the  very  girl 
I  was  thinking  about.  I  should  certainly  have  come 
for  you  in  the  morning." 

Marie  moved  forward,  a  little  frightened,  yet 
smiling,  for  the  voice  and  the  face  of  Cousin  Selina 
reassured  her.  It  was  a  pleasure  she  felt  only  to  be 
in  her  presence,  and  the  kindly  words  of  welcome 
were  as  refreshing  to  her  ears  as  they  were  unex- 
pected. 

"Lay  aside  your  wraps,  my  dear.  You  look  tired 
— put  them  on  the  table  there,  with  your  bag,  and 
come  and  have  some  tea.  I  am  sure  you  have  not 
had  your  supper  yet." 

Marie  trembling,  laid  aside  her  hat  and  shawl, 


60  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

and  came  forward  to  the  fireplace,  in  which  a  few 
pieces  of  wood  were  still  blazing,  making  a  radi- 
ance that  embraced  the  figure  of  the  little  woman  at 
the  table,  who  was  now  pouring  out  the  tea. 

"I  always  set  an  extra  cup ;  for  my  friends  call 
at  all  hours,  and  I  am  so  glad  you  came !  I  should 
like  you  to  stay  with  me,  if  you  can." 

"I  came  to  stay/'  said  Marie,  pushing  back  a  lock 
of  stray  hair,  and  glancing  down  at  her  dress — "if — 
if  I  am  fit.  I've  been  at  work  very  hard  all  day." 

"I  thought  you  looked  tired — why,  yes,  you  look 
fit  enough.  Take  the  tall  chair,  that's  it,  and  I'll 
cut  and  butter  you  some  bread — or,  perhaps  you 
like  sweeties  best?" 

"Oh,  no,  bread  and  butter  is  so  nice,"  said  the 
girl,  "specially  when  you  have  time  to  eat  it." 

"Time,  my  dear,  I  always  take  time.  My  health 
requires  it;  everybody's  health  requires  it.  Now, 
how  came  you  here?  Did  you  get  tired  of  your 
place?  I  don't  believe  they  sent  you  away,"  and 
her  smile,  so  reassuring,  lightened  Marie's  heart, 
and  drew  out  all  her  confidence.  She  told  her  story 
with  pathos,  with  almost  dramatic  fire,  and  Selina 
listened  and  pitied. 


MARIE  MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  MISS  JACK        61 

"Why,  of  course,  it  was  very  wrong  of  them  to 
make  you  tend  in  a  beer  shop,  and  to  work  you  so 
hard,  while  you  are  growing." 

"And  do  you  think  I  did  very  wrong  to  run 
away?"  Marie  asked,  anxiously.  "She  was  dead, 
you  know,  and  she  was  the  only  one  who  was  ever 
kind  to  me."  The  girl  felt  so  comfortable,  sitting 
there  with  limbs  relaxed,  and  no  dread  garret  to 
look  forward  to.  She  knew  this  sweet  little  woman 
with  her  kindly  eyes  would  advise  her  for  the  best. 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  don't  know  as  I  can  blame 
you,  but  the  idea  of  leaving  them,  with  no  one  to 
take  your  place,  doesn't  strike  me  as  exactly  kind." 

The  girl's  eyes  fell,  her  lips  quivered. 

"At  the  same  time/'  Cousin  Selina  went  on,  toy- 
ing with  the  little  silver  teaspoon  she  held,  "it  was 
no  fitting  place  for  you.  You  are  too  young  and 
too  slight  for  all  that  hard  work.  It  would  have 
injured  your  growth,  and  done  you  harm  both  in 
mind  and  body.  So  tomorrow  I  will  call  upon 
them,  and  tell  them  how  I  feel  about  it." 

"Oh!  then  they  will  come  after  me.  My  mother 
owed  them  money,  rent  money,  and  he  says  he  can 
hold  me  for  it."  The  girl  trembled  with  fear, 

5 


62  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"I  happen  to  know  that  he  can  do  no  such 
thing,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  smiling.  "I  will  see  to 
all  that,  so  make  your  mind  easy.  I  hope  you 
found  no  trouble  in  getting  in." 

"No,  indeed,''  Marie  answered,  pushing  cup  and 
saucer  back,  "but  the  little  old  woman  was  very 
funny." 

"Oh,  then  you  saw  Miss  Jack.  Everybody  calls 
her  Miss  Jack,  only  not  to  her  face.  Her  name  is 
Jacquelina,  so  people  got  into  the  habit  of  using 
the  first  syllable,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "Yes,  she  is 
very  funny  in  her  personal  appearance,  and  her  his- 
tory is  rather  a  sad  one.  Her  people  once  owned 
all  the  land  about  here,  but  everything  is  gone  ex- 
cept this  house  which  she  owns  and  rents  to  me. 
T  shall  expect  you  to  take  care  of  a  few  rooms, 
and  to  help  me  when  my  nephew,  who  is  a  sick 
boy,  is  brought  here  tomorrow.  I  don't  think  the 
work  will  be  beyond  your  strength." 

"Oh,  I  shall  love  to  work  for  you/'  said  Marie, 
with  brightening  eyes. 

"It  seems  a  pity  that  you  shouldn't  be  in  school," 
Cousin  Selina  murmured,  as  if  talking  to  herself. 

"I  can  read  and  write,"  Marie  spoke  up,  eagerly, 
"and  I  can  do  sums.  I  can  .read  very  hard  words. 


MARIE  MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  MISS  JACK       63 

My  mother  was  a  school  teacher  once,  and  tilLshe 
got  very  sick,  she  taught  me  every  day,  and  some- 
times even  after  that." 

"How  long  ago  did  your  mother  die?"  asked 
Cousin  Selina,  gently. 

"It  -is  almost  three  years  now,"  the  girl  re- 
sponded, her  face  clouding.  "I  took  care  of  her, 
for  a  long  time." 

They  had  moved  away  from  the  table,  and  me- 
chanically Marie  began  to  gather  the  dishes  for 
removal,  but  the  woman  motioned  her  to  sit  down. 
She  wanted  to  talk  with  her.  She  noted  how  poorly 
dressed  she  was.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  hand 
must  be  inexperienced  that  had  sewed  on  the 
patches  here  and  there,  but  she  was  clean,  and  the 
wonderfully  clear  eyes  lifted  to  Cousin  Selina's 
evoked  all  the  tenderness  in  the  woman's  heart. 

"This  is  no  ordinary  child,"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  the  girl's  answers  to  her  few  inquiries  con- 
firmed the  impression.  It  was  a  sad  story  she  told. 
Her  mother  was  a  Swiss  woman,  who  with  her 
young  husband  had  emigrated  to  America  sixteen 
years  before.  The  man  was  a  carver  by  trade  and 
followed  his  business  to  very  little  profit.  When 
the  girl  was  seven  years  old  her  father  had  left  the 


64  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

country  suddenly.  There  was  some  trouble,  but 
she  never  knew  exactly  what  it  was,  only  it  must 
have  been  something  terrible,  for  it  made  her 
mother  very  ill.  Then,  not  long  after  there  came 
news  that  her  father  was  dead,  at  the  same  time 
that  some  relative  had  left  her  mother  a  small  sum 
of  money,  upon  which  they  lived  for  a  year  or  two. 
After  that  her  mother  took  in  plain  sewing,  but  all 
the  time  she  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  till  at  last 
she  was  a  hopeless  invalid. 

"I  did  everything  I  could,"  said  Marie,  tears  in 
her  pathetic  dark  eyes,  eyes  that  haunted  one  with 
their  beauty  and  depth  of  expression.  "I  got  papers 
to  sell  on  the  street.  I  sorted  rags — oh,  I  did  such 
hard  \vork  for  so  little  money,  but  T  couldn't  keep 
her — she  died,"  and  the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 

The  purity  of  the  girl's  language,  no  less  than 
her  lovely  face,  attracted  Cousin  Selina,  who  was 
impressionable  to  all  phases  of  misfortune,  and  she 
resolved  to  befriend  her  to  the  extent  of  her  op- 
portunity. 

"We  had  sold  everything,  even  the  chairs,"  the 
girl  went  on.  "I  had  to  sit  on  the  side  of  mother's 
bed,  or  else  on  a  pine  box.  The  German  who  let 
us  have  the  rooms  often  bothered  us  for  the  rent, 


MARIE   MAKES   THE   ACQUAINTANCE   OF   MISS  JACK         65 

those  last  months,  but  his  wife  was  kind,  and  some- 
times brought  up  things  from  her  own  table.  How 
could  I  help  but  work  for  her — and  I  have  always 
worked  very  hard  all  my  life." 

She  sat  on  a  low  chair,  one  elbow  on  her  knee, 
and  her  face  in  her  hand. 

"You  poor  mite,"  thought  Cousin  Selina,  ''de- 
frauded of  all  the  chances  of  your  youth,  thrown 
into  daily  peril,  meeting  only  the  rough  and  lower 
phases  of  life,  you  shall  have  your  chance  now." 

''It  was  so  different  when  father  was  with  us," 
the  girl  went  on  musingly.  "We  were  just  as 
happy  then !  We  always  had  enough  to  eat,  and  he 
could  play  the  violin — oh !  how  sweet  it  did  sound 
—I'd  give  the  world  if  I  could  learn  to  play,"  and 
she  lifted  her  face  with  a  smile  on  it.  "Perhaps  I 
can.  sometime,  only  papa  said  that  one  should 
begin  early,  and  you  know  I'm  getting  old." 

"What  a  child !"  said  Cousin  Selina,  laughing 
unrestrainedly — "not  sixteen  yet,  and  getting  old!" 

"I  mean  if  papa  had  not  gone  away,  he  would 
have  taught  me,  years  ago,"  she  said. 

"Mother  told  me  not  to  worry  about  it,  because 
some  day  I  should  find  my  opportunity,"  the  girl 
resumed.  "I  don't  know — maybe  the  kind  old  gen- 


88  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

tleman  I  told  yon  about  will  help  me.  He  was  a 
teacher,  you  know,  but  he  never  came  as  he  said 
he  would.  Maybe  he  died." 

"Let  us  hope  not,"  Cousin  Selina  said,  rising. 
"And  now  I  must  get  you  a  place  to  sleep  in. 
There's  a  dear  little  room  across  the  hall  that  will 
be  just  the  thing  for  the  present." 

"Is  it  possible  that  I  have  found  a  home?"  the 
girl  thought,  then  as  the  moon  shone  brightly  into 
the  room — "oh,  it  seems  just  like  heaven!"  she 
said  fervently,  as  the  bright  moonlight  brought 
into  strong  relief  the  pretty  furniture,  the  pictures, 
the  faded  but  delicate  hangings. 

"Now  I  will  show  you  where  to  put  the  dishes/' 
said  Cousin  Selina.  "Are  you  too  tired  to  help?" 

"Too  tired !  oh,  no,  no.  What  wouldn't  I  do  for 
you?"  said  the  grateful  girl.  "Only  let  me  help 
you  and  work  for  you."  She  felt  as  if  she  could 
throw  herself  on  her  knees  beside  this  dear  woman 
and  kiss  the  very  hem  of  her  garment.  So  entire 
and  wonderful  was  the  change  from  the  coarse 
tawdriness  of  her  recent  home,  to  this  lovely,  rest- 
ful place.  She  washed  the  dishes  carefully,  one  by 
one,  delicate  and  graceful  bits  of  china  they  were, 
that  had  been  used  by  careful  ancestors,  put  them 


MARIE    MAKES   THE   ACQUAINTANCE   OF   MISS   JACK        67 

away  and  then  sat  down,  while,  slowly,  and  as  if  she 
loved  the  task,  Cousin  Selina  built  up  a  little  pyra- 
mid of  wood  in  the  broad  fireplace,  and  kindled  it. 
When  the  reddening  blaze  gave  its  own  fitful  light 
to  the  surroundings,  not  forgetting  the  delicate 
face  and  the  silvery  rings  of  Cousin  Selina's  hair, 
it  was  as  pretty  a  scene  as  one  might  find  in  a 
long  search  after  the  picturesque. 

Cousin  Selina  watched  her  as  wave  after  wave 
of  emotion  passed  over  the  girl's  face. 

"She  is  beautiful,"  she  said  to  herself;  "she  is 
even  more  beautiful  than  Anne,  yes,  much  more 
beautiful.  And  Anne  will  like  her,  I  am  sure,  for 
there  is  no  selfishness  in  Anne's  sweet  nature.  And 
perhaps  she  will  feel  so  much  interest  in  the  child 
that  she  will  help  her  and  teach  her.  With  Anne's 
brother  and  this  child  I  shall  have  my  hands  full, 
but  in  time  I  foresee  the  girl  will  be  a  great  help 
to  me." 


CHAPTER  VI. 
MARIE'S  NEW  HOME. 

Morning  came,  bringing  all  the  wondrous  fresh- 
ness of  the  dawn,  the  marvellous  coloring  of  the 
skies,  the  birds  twittering,  the  flowers  and  grass 
steeped  in  dew. 

Cousin  Selina  went  downstairs  as  she  usually  did 
to  get  the  milk,  and  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  as  she 
stood  on  the  wide  stone  landing  and  waited  the 
deliberate  motions  of  the  country  vender. 

Not  unfrequently  she  swung  the  iron  chains  a 
little,  with  something  like  a  girlish  love  of  move- 
ment, for  Cousin  Selina  had  not  parted  with  the 
youthful  glamor  of  her  younger  days.  She  felt 
very  often  like  a  child  herself,  and  loved  to  watch 
all  the  beautiful  things  of  nature  from  the  upspring- 
ing  of  the  first  dandelion  or  buttercup,  to  the  full 
foliage  of  the  great  trees  by  the  curbstone. 

"Nice  morning,"  said  the  milkman  as  he  delib- 
erately replaced  the  great  stopple  in  the  huge  milk 
can  and  turned  to  go  down  the  stone  steps. 

(68) 


MARIE'S    NEW    HOME  69 

"Beautiful,"  responded  Cousin  Selina,  looking 
up  to  the  blue  sky  with  its  wonderful  panorama  of 
fleecy  clouds.  Then  she  went  upstairs.  Marie  was 
dressed  and  already  trying  to  light  the  fire.  For  a 
slight  girl  of  fifteen  she  proved  herself  a  good  and 
ready  worker,  and  Cousin  Selina  was  astonished  at 
the  thoughtful  way  in  which  she  did  her  work,  and 
how  quick  and  pronounced  were  all  her  move- 
ments. One  other  particular  pleased  her,  the  quiet 
way  in  which  she  moved  round  and  accomplished 
results. 

"My  nephew  will  be  brought  here  by  ten 
o'clock,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  "so  I  will  make  every 
thing  ready  for  him.  Where  did  you  find  that 
pretty  bunch  of  flowers?"  she  asked,  the  boquet  in 
question  making  quite  a  show  upon  the  breakfast 
table. 

"Oh,  I  got  up  while  you  were  asleep,"  said  the 
girl.  "I  always  rose  at  five,  to  go  after  my  papers, 
and  it  looked  so  sweet  and  bright  out  that  I 
dressed,  put  on  my  hat  and  ran  downstairs.  There 
were  plenty  of  blue,  white  and  yellow  flowers  in  the 
yard,  and  when  I  was  gathering  them  Miss  Jack 
came  out  and  gave  me  some  of  the  'flowers  of  her 
ancestors/  she  said — and  told  me  what  seed  they 


70  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

were  planted  from,  and  showed  me  a  rose  tree  that 
is  fifty  years  old.  And,  oh,  she  looked  so  funny, 
with  a  black  nightcap  on,  and  a  shawl  over  her 
head !  Do  you  see  those  geraniums  and  lilies  of 
the  valley?  She  gave  me  those.  She  said  when 
she  was  a  child,  in  place  of  buildings  there  were 
orchards  all  'round  here,  and  that  the  big  pear  trees 
in  the  yard  were  some  that  her  own  father  planted. 
It  didn't  seem  as  if  she  ever  had  been  a  little  child 
running  about  and  laughing." 

"It  is  rather  hard  to  imagine  that,"  said  Cousin 
Selina,  "but" — and  she  sighed  gently — "we  were 
all  children,  the  oldest  of  us." 

"You — I  can  almost  see  you  as  a  child,"  said 
Marie,  stopping  half  way  between  the  closet  and  the 
table — "you  look  it  yet,"  she  went  on  so  naively, 
that  Cousin  Selina  laughed. 

"Then  I  must  be  in  my  second  childhood,"  she 
said. 

"Oh,  no,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  Marie  said,  dis- 
tressfully. 

"You  meant  all  right,"  Cousin  Selina  laughed 
back.  "So  now  we'll  take  breakfast,  and  then  we'll 
get  everything  ready  for  the  coming  of  our  laddie." 

"For  the  coming  of  our  laddie." 


MARIE'S    NEW    HOME  71 

The  words  thrilled  Marie.  She  was  to  have 
something  to  do  with  this  visitation,  and  her  whole 
heart  went  out  to  the  expected  invalid. 

Cousin  Selina  found  time  to  call  at  the  old  Ger- 
man's house  and  explain  matters.  She  found  them 
all  very  angry,  so  angry  that  they  voluntarily  dis- 
claimed Marie.  They  had  found  help,  they  said, 
and  were  very  glad  to  be  rid  of  the  ungracious  little 
baggage. 

"She  vos  no  goot — no  goot  vatever  in  de  shop," 
the  man  said,  and  they  even  claimed  that  they  had 
kept  her  out  of  pity.  So  the  little  woman  came 
home  with  good  news  for  Marie,  who  realized  that 
for  the  time  being  all  her  troubles  were  ended,  and 
she  went  about  her  duties  singing. 

"It's  no  trouble  to  work  here,"  she  said,  as  she 
placed  the  flowers  on  a  daintily  covered  table  by 
the  side  of  the  bed,  and  pictured  to  herself  what 
the  sick  boy  would  be  like.  Not,  she  was  sure, 
like  the  newspaper  boys  she  had  met  in  the  streets. 
Unconsciously  she  possessed  the  pride  of  family  and 
had  always  held  herself  better  than  her  surround- 
ings. This  had  preserved  her  childish  purity  and 
the  sweetness  of  her  nature.  She  had  been  among 
the  street  gamins,  led  into  their  society  through  the 


72  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

force  of  circumstances — but  never  of  them.  Her 
mother's  counsels  had  kept  her  from  contact  with 
evil. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  and  while  Marie  was  watching 
the  hands  of  the  quaint  clock  on  the  mantle  shelf 
almost  on  the  minute  a  carriage  drove  up  with  the 
doctor  and  the  sick  young  sailor  inside. 

Partly  by  his  own  exertions  and  partly  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  the  medical  man,  the  young  fellow 
climbed  the  one  flight  of  stairs,  and  made  his  first 
appearance  at  the  door  of  the  room  beautiful.  For 
a  moment  his  glance  took  in  the  unaccustomed 
scene,  and  his  eyes  kindled,  the  hectic  of  fever 
flushed  his  cheek.  To  sweetest  Marie,  standing 
there,  alive  to  the  novelty  of  the  situation,  the 
young  sailor  seemed  the  most  pathetic  and  beauti- 
ful object  her  eyes  had  ever  rested  on.  At  once  and 
without  stint,  her  heart  went  out  to  him  in  pity  for 
his  weakness,  and  admiration  for  his  striking  face. 

Cousin  Selina  also  had  eyes  for  no  one  but  him. 
She  directed  his  steps  to  the  bed,  and  as  he  was 
too  much  exhausted  to  stand,  helped  him  to  lie 
down  and  piled  the  pillows  high  under  his  head. 
The  sweet-scented  linen  gave  out  a  faint  smell  of 


MARIE'S    NEW    HOME  73 

lavender,  and  Marie  stood  timidly  by,  while  the 
doctor  went  out,  followed  by  Cousin  Selina. 

"Is  he  very  sick,  doctor?"  she  asked  in  a  cautious 
whisper,  as  if  fearful  that  the  walls  would  hear. 

"In  rather  a  critical  condition,  my  dear  madam," 
said  the  doctor,  "but  everything  depends  upon 
good  nursing." 

"He  shall  have  it/'  said  Cousin  Selina,  as  de- 
voutly as  if  she  were  saying  a  prayer. 

"I  don't  doubt  it,  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  look- 
ing down  at  her  with  a  benignant  smile — he  was  a 
very  tall  man,  over  six  feet,  and  she  was  a  mite  of 
a  woman.  "We  shall  be  better  able  to  tell  in  a  few 
days.  Meantime,  I  am  sure  he  is  in  good  hands." 

Cousin  Selina  went  back  into  the  room,  and  saw 
with  evident  pleasure  that  her  patient  was  asleep. 

"Did  he  say  anything?"  she  asked  Marie. 

"Oh,  yes,"  the  girl  answered,  delighted,  "he 
smiled  and  said  'what  a  pretty  room !'  and  asked  me 
who  I  was,"  was  the  girl's  answer.  "I  told  him  I 
was  a  stranger,  and  had  come  to  help  you.  Was 
that  right?" 

"Yes.  that  was  right,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "You 
certainly  do  help  me," 


74  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

At  noon  time  came  Anne,  all  eagerness  and  ex- 
citement. 

"Be  careful,  dear,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "He  is 
very  weak,  but  I  told  him  you  were  coming,  so  he 
is  prepared  to  meet  you,  but  he  is  still  in  some 
danger,  and  his  left  hand  is  useless.  You  must  be 
very  calm,  and  control  yourself." 

Anne  promised,  but  her  pulses  throbbed  and  her 
cheeks  burned.  Marie  was  in  the  room  across  the 
hall,  the  small  place  with  its  one  window,  seeming 
to  her  the  concentration  of  all  comfort,  all  con- 
venience. 

In  the  room  beautiful  the  sun  was  carefully 
screened  from  the  large  alcove,  and  Ralph  was 
propped  up  on  his  pillows,  trying  to  sleep.  He 
turned  quite  pale  when,  opening  his  eyes,  he  saw 
a  lovely,  eager  face,  and  a  pair  of  big,  solemn  eyes, 
intently  regarding  him. 

The  girl  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot  with 
the  effort  she  made  to  conceal  her  agitation,  and 
the  wild  love  that  made  her  heart  leap  out  towards 
him. 

"I  think  you  must  be  Anne,"  he  said,  simply,  in 
a  weak  voice. 


MARIE'S    XEW    HOME  75 

"Yes,  I  am  Anne."  was  her  answer,  and  she  put 
her  hand  in  his,  and  stooped  down  to  kiss  his 
.  flushed  forehead. 

"My  dear,  dear  sister !"  he  said  with  a  wan  smile, 
"how  good  of  you  to  come  and  see  your  poor  hulk 
of  a  brother,  maimed  and  crippled  and  sick." 

"But  you  will  soon  be  well  and  hearty  again, 
under  Cousin  Selina's  care,"  she  answered,  driving 
back  the  tears  that  welled  to  her  eyes,  and  thinking, 
just  as  Marie  had,  how  very  handsome  he  was,  and 
yet,  what  was  there  that  disappointed  her  in  this 
interview?  She  had  over  and  over  again  pictured 
this  meeting,  and  always  she  had  flown  into  his 
arms  and  cried  with  her  head  on  his  shoulder.  But 
in  this  case  of  the  real  situation,  he  had  not  even 
opened  his  arms,  he  had  not  offered  to  kiss  her,  he 
had  not  been  in  the  least  degree  emotional,  as  she 
had  expected.  "But.  poor  lad!"  she  thought  to 
herself,  "how  could  he,  in  his  weakened  state,  and 
with  one  arm  bandaged?" 

Previous  to  her  coming,  she  had  gone  through 
a  brief  experience  with  her  Aunt  Martha,  that 
would  have  tried  the  temper  of  an  angel,  for  Aunt 
Martha's  dislike  of  the  boy  who  had  dared  to  run 
away  was  qiiite  as  inte-nse  as  was  her  Aunt  Han- 


76  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

nah's.  She  had  declared  that  sailors  were  always 
very  irregular  and  good  for  nothing  men,  only  fit 
for  the  forecastle,  and  never  in  their  element  save 
when  they  were  on  the  ocean.  She  had  even  gone 
so  far  as  to  deplore  his  return,  and  hoped  that  he 
would  soon  be  well  enough  to  go  to  sea  again,  for 
the  sea  was  the  only  place  they  were  fit  for,  and 
sailors  were  blots  upon  humanity  when  they  went 
ashore. 

"They  can't  even  walk  straight,"  she  declared, 
"but  reel  round  the  streets  like  drunken  men  often 
with  a  great  black  pipe  between  their  lips,  and  they 
are  forever  knocking  somebody  down.  How  Se- 
lina,  with  her  nice  perceptions  and  belongings, 
could  ever  bring  herself  to  take  him  into  her  house, 
I'm  sure  I  can't  imagine,"  she  went  on.  "Just 
think  of  him  with  his  old  tobacco  among  her  nice 
things,  for  I  will  give  her  the  credit  of  being  nice, 
and  ingenious  and  very  tasty  as  to  her  house  and 
herself.  Why  couldn't  she  let  him  go  to  the  hos- 
pital, where  they  don't  mind  such  things?  She  to 
nurse  a  common,  low-down  sailor  fellow." 

"But  aunt,  that  sailor  fellow,  as  you  call  him,  is 
your  own  nephew,  and  my  own  brother,"  said  Anne 
with  spirit,  "and  if  he  belongs  to  us,  he  must  cer- 


MARIE'S    NEW    HOME  77 

tainly  be  something  like  a  gentleman.  I  think 
Cousin  Selina  is  an  angel  for  taking  him,  and  I 
shall  never  forget  it  of  her,  never.  Why,  you're 
not  even  glad  he's  living,  and  has  come  back  to 
us,"  and  the  ready  tears  came. 

"I  should  be  if  he  were  anything  but  a  common 
sailor,  and  Selina  had  something  more  than  her 
little  income.  What  she  wants  to  beggar  herself 
for,  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell,  for  she  certainly  will  have 
doctors'  bills  to  pay,  and  nothing  is  more  expen- 
sive." 

Into  what  a  state  of  horror  and  virtuous  indigna- 
tion Aunt  Hannah  would  have  gone,  had  she  also 
known  that  Cousin  Selina  had  burdened  her- 
self with  the  care  of  a  sick  man  and  young  girl 
in  her  already  hampered  condition,  can  scarcely  be 
calculated. 

"Why  couldn't  we  all  help?"  asked  Anne,  trem- 
ulously. 

"Yes,  of  course,  that  would  naturally  be  your 
question.  You  don't  know  any  more  about  money 
matters  than  Selina.  It's  come  to  that,  I'm  afraid, 
and  mercy  knows,  I  can't  spare  anything,  unless 
it's  out  of  the  soup  kettle  on  a  Friday.  Your  Aunt 

Hannah  could,  and  not  feel  it,  but  she  never  fools 
6 


78  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

away  her  money.  That's  the  way  she's  made  it,  not 
by  taking  utterly  irresponsible  young  men  to  care 
for,  and  pay  doctor's  bills  for.  Rich  as  she  is,  she 
wouldn't  do  that." 

"Well,  I  only  wish  I  had  some  money  of  my 
own,"  sighed  poor  Anne,  at  which  her  aunt  looked 
a  little  uncomfortable — "how  cheerfully  I  would 
spend  it  for  him !" 

"Which  shows  you  are  just  as  feather-brained  as 
Selina  herself,  when  there's  a  good  hospital  and  the 
best  of  medical  attention,  free  as  air.  I'm  glad  you 
haven't  got  it  to  spend — as  I  think,  foolishly,  and 
I  expect  this  brother  of  yours  will  banish  all 
thoughts  of  study  and  everything  else  from  your 
head.  You'll  be  wanting  to  go  and  see  him  every 
moment  of  your  precious  time,  or  rather  of  my 
precious  time,  and,  of  course,  there  won't  be  any- 
body else  on  the  face  of  the  earth  like  him  with 
all  his  horrid  ways,  and  smoking  and  swearing.  Oh, 
I  know  them — it's  no  use  your  talking.  I  tell  you 
they  are  utterly  bad !"  and  having  worked  herself 
into  a  passion,  Aunt  Martha  left  the  room. 

With  all  this  interview  fresh  in  her  mind,  Anne 
was  not  exactly  in  the  mood  to  welcome  with  a 
cordial  interest  a  returning  prodigal.  But  when  she 


MARIE'S    NEW    HOME  79 

saw  a  pale,  handsome,  refined  face,  strikingly  like 
her  own  in  features  and  expression,  she  wondered 
if  her  aunt's  description  could  be  anywhere  near 
the  truth.  That  face,  with  its  rings  of  ruddy  gold 
hair,  its  delicacy  of  lining,  its  fine  sensitive  lips 
— how  could  her  aunt's  description  be  anywhere 
near  the  truth  ?  And  even  with  the  fear  and  tremb- 
ling engendered  by  all  she  had  heard,  if  the  young 
man  could  have  thrown  warmth  and  naturalness 
into  his  manner,  she  could  have  met  him  with  all 
the  enthusiasm  of  a  sister,  to  whom  a  brother's  love 
was  necessary. 

"It  must  be  his  weakness,  poor  fellow,"  she 
thought,  and  indeed  the  young  man,  on  nearer  in- 
spection, showed  marks  of  suffering  and  of  emaci- 
ation. His  eyes  were  unnaturally  bright,  his  breath 
came  short,  he  moved  uneasily,  and  seemed  now 
and  then  to  suppress  a  groan.  His  left  arm  was  in 
a  bandage,  and  ever  and  anon  came  a  quick,  hollow 
cough  that  grated  on  her  nerves  and  filled  her  with 
a  vague  alarm. 

"Was  it  not  kind  in  Cousin  Selina?"  he  asked, 
hesitating  a  little  over  the  name,  "to  have  me 
brought  here  in  this  beautiful  place?  You  don't 
know  how  much  I  enjoy  it.  Oh,  I  have  such  a 


80  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

horror  of  the  hospital.  It's  awful  to  have  to  lie 
there  and  look  round  the  bare  walls — the  walls  are 
always  dead  white.  It's  terrible  to  hear  the  groans 
of  the  sick  and  see  their  pale  faces.  It  makes  you 
think  yourself  much  worse  than  you  are.  Here 
everything  seems  like  home." 

"It's  a  long  time  since  you've  had  a  home,  poor 
fellow,"  she  said  in  a  caressing  tone. 

"Yes" — and  he  smiled  languidly — "a  real  home. 
Not  since  the  day  I  was  foolish  enough  to  run 
away.  But  I  loved  the  sea.  I  couldn't  seem  to  help 
it.  I  always  did — I  loved  stories  of  the  sea,  but  I 
found  it  an  enemy." 

"That  is,  I  suppose,  when  you  fell  overboard," 
said  Anne. 

"Well,  always,  more  or  less.  I  was  unlucky,  I 
suppose.  We  sailors  believe  a  good  deal  in  luck." 

"How  came  you  to  go  overboard?"  asked  Anne, 
now  thoroughly  interested,  her  eyes  shining  with 
curiosity. 

"Well,  it  was  in  a  storm,"  he  said,  evidently  with 
some  little  reluctance.  "There  was  a  bad  storm, 
and  I  was  sent  lurching  overboard.  Nobody  knew 
— it  was  all  so  sudden.  If  anybody  had  seen  or 
heard  me  the  boat  would  have  been  put  out,  but, 


MARIE'S    NEW   HOME  81 

of  course,  nobody  was  missed.  For  a  long  time 
I  kept  myself  afloat,  and  I  shouted  till  I  was  hoarse, 
but  the  wind  howled  louder  than  I  did,  desperate 
as  I  was.  Fortunately  I  caught  a  drifting  log,  and 
that  kept  my  head  above  water.  I  must  have  been 
afloat  ten  or  twelve  hours,  when  a  merchantman 
came  along  just  about  as  the  storm  was  ended,  and 
they  saw  me.  I  tell  you  I  was  glad  to  be  taken 
aboard." 

There  was  no  enthusiasm  in  this  recital.  Voice 
and  eyes  were  languid. 

"That  was  why  we  never  had  any  news,"  said 
Anne,  who,  on  the  contrary,  had  almost  held  her 
breath  during  the  rehearsal  of  his  experience. 
"Why  did  you  never  write  us?" 

"I  did,  several  times,  but  I  suppose  you  never 
got  anything,  and  a  sailor's  roving  propensities 
unfit  him  for  everything  but  the  sea,  so  I  grew 
careless." 

"That's  what  Aunt  Martha  says/'  Anne  respond- 
ed. "You  remember  Aunt  Martha?" 

He  nodded  in  a  listless  way,  and  answered,  "oh, 
yes." 

"And  Aunt  Hannah?" 

"I  wrote  to  her  as  soon  as  I  got  here,"  he  said. 


82  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Anne  blushed. 

"Yes,  I  know.  You  must  have  thought  it  strange 
that  she  never  answered  you,"  she  said. 

"I  did — but  I  like  this  aunt  best,"  and  a  very 
sweet  expression  stole  over  his  face. 

"Oh,  she's  an  angel,"  Anne  responded,  with  en- 
thusiasm. "She's  lovely  to  me,  and  I  wish  I  could 
be  with  her,  always.  Now,  is  there  anything  you 
would  like?  May  I  read  to  you?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  he  answered,  with  such  evi- 
dent weariness  that  Anne  was  relieved  when  the 
door  opened. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA. 

Supposing  it  was  Cousin  Selina  who  had  gone 
out  to  procure  some  delicacy  for  the  sick  boy,  Anne 
turned  to  meet  a  strange  face.  A  young  girl  en- 
tered, not  quite  as  tall  as  herself,  her  pretty  face 
dimpled  and  beaming.  Anne  thought  she  had  never 
seen  anything  lovelier. 

"Are  you  Miss  Anne?"  asked  the  new  comer, 
wonder  and  pleasure  in  her  glance. 

"Yes,  I  am  Miss  Anne,"  answered  the  girl,  pleas- 
antly, "but  who  are  you?" 

At  that  moment  Cousin  Selina  came  in,  her 
hands  full  of  bundles,  which  the  strange  girl  has- 
tened to  relieve  her  of,  wTith  such  alacrity,  disposing 
of  them  so  deftly  that  Anne  began  to  wonder  where 
her  own  place  in  this  newly-enlarged  family  came 
in,  and  felt  almost  like  an  interloper. 

"My   dear,   you   know  Anne,   I   suppose,"   said 

Cousin  Selina,,  brightly. 

(83) 


84  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Oh,  yes,  I  knew  her  in  a  moment,  from  your  de- 
scription of  her,"  Marie  responded,  beaming  upon 
Anne. 

"And  you  have  more  than  once  heard  me  speak 
of  little  Marie,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  kissing  her 
niece. 

"Oh,  yes;  then  she  has  come  to  stay — I  am  so 
glad  for  you.  You  needed  some  help,"  said  Anne. 
"Of  course  you  will  keep  her,"  she  went  on,  follow- 
ing Cousin  Selina  to  another  part  of  the  long  room. 

"Yes,  dear,  as  long  as  I  possibly  can.  You  can- 
not think  how  ready  and  willing  she  is." 

"How  sweet  of  you,"  said  Anne.  "You're  not  a 
bit  like — the  others — I  will  say  it — not  one  bit." 

"A  little  feather-brained,  you  know,"  Cousin  Se- 
lina laughed  back,  "that  is  Aunt  Martha's  opinion, 
shared,  probably,  by  Aunt  Hannah.  I  wish  I  had 
a  little  more  worldly  wisdom,  but  then,  you  see.  I 
was  born  without  it." 

"I'm  so  glad,"  was  Anne's  devout  reply.  "May- 
be if  you  had  been  so  worldly  wise,  I  shouldn't  have 
felt  like  coming  to  you,  and  I  couldn't  have  told 
you  all  my  troubles,  as  I  do  now." 

"You  always  are  welcome  to  my  little  consola- 
tions," said  Cousin  Selina,  putting  things  in  place 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  85 

with  a  deft  touch.  "But  you  haven't  told  me  what 
you  think  of  our  young  man." 

Anne  grew  very  grave. 

"I  think  he  is  sick,"  she  said,  evasively — "and — 
and  a  little  bit  strange." 

"Of  course,  my  dear,  that  is  natural.  You  two 
are  almost  like  strangers  to  each  other.  You  were 
only  a  little  girl  when  he  went  away.  For  almost 
seven  long  years  we  have  thought  him  dead.  What 
wonder  you  do  not  at  once  come  into  rapport?  You 
are  disappointed,  I  can  see,  but  wait  till  you  get 
better  acquainted.  Wait  till  he  gets  well  and  strong. 
Isn't  he  a  handsome  fellow?" 

"I  think  he  will  be,  Cousin  Selina,  when  he  is 
well — but  he  looks  as  if  he  was  never  going  to  be 
well  again." 

"Hush,  hush,  my  dear,  don't  let  him  hear  you, 
for  he  is  very  despondent  himself.  I  shall  have  to 
exercise  hope  and  faith  enough  for  both.  He  must, 
he  shall  get  well." 

"And  then  he  will  go  to  sea  again,  and  we  shall 
lose  him,"  said  Anne. 

"Perhaps  not,  though  I've  heard,  once  a  sailor, 
always  a  sailor,"  her  aunt  responded. 


86  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

"Yes,  so  Aunt  Martha  says,"  Anne  answered 
with  a  sigh. 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  she  doesn't  care  for  him,  and 
as  to  killing  the  fatted  calf — " 

"Oh,  Cousin  Selina,"  and  Anne  laughed  faintly, 
"I  think  she  is  sorry  he  has  come  back." 

"What  does  she  say  about  it?"  asked  Cousin 
Selina,  as  the  two  moved  over  to  the  window, 
while  Marie,  humming  a  tune  under  her  breath, 
was  busy  setting  the  table. 

"She  says  everything  that  is  disagreeable,"  was 
the  reply,  "that  she  hates  sailors,  that  they  are  a 
miserable,  unthrifty  set,  always  smoking  and  swag- 
gering. That  for  her  part  she  wants  nothing  to  clo 
with  him,  for  he  disgraced  the  family.  I  guess  she 
would  rather  he  had  drowned.  But  I  must  go,  for 
I  promised  I  would  come  right  back." 

"And  I  must  go,  too,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  "for 
I  find  I  have  forgotten  something." 

"That's  too  bad,  only  I'm  glad  to  have  com- 
pany," said  Anne  with  a  laugh. 

"When  Ralph  gets  well,  what  a  protector  you 
will  have — " 

"An  own  brother!" — said  Anne,  impulsively.  "If 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  87 

he  does  get  well,  I  mean,  Aunt  Martha  shall  be 
proud  of  him." 

"I  can't  stay  with  you  long  at  a  time,"  she  went 
on,  addressing  the  invalid,  "but  I'll  come  often  and 
do  you  all  the  good  I  can." 

She  bent  over  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead, 
and  went  out  with  her  aunt. 

They  opened  the  great  front  door  upon  a  curious 
sight.  Miss  Jack  sat  in  one  of  the  iron  swings, 
bobbing  back  and  forth  in  a  sort  of  ecstacy,  her 
gray  curls  swaying,  her  shawl  open,  displaying  a 
very  old-fashioned  garment,  called  in  those  days  a 
sack,  yellow,  over  an  antiquated  black  silk  dress 
trimmed  with  yards  and  yards  of  fringe. 

"Pardon  me,"  she  said,  springing  down  to  the 
old  gray  stone  steps.  "The  memory  of  my  younger 
days  overcame  my  habitual  gravity  of  demeanor. 
One  does  sometimes  forget  one's  age.  It  is  very 
silly  and  romantic  of  me." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Cousin  Selina  politely.  "Pray 
don't  apologize  for  a  little  touch  of  nature,  which 
we  all  experience  sometimes.  Have  you  written 
any  more  poems,  Miss  Jack?" 

"Dear  me,  don't  please  call  my  small  efforts 
poems.  Yes,"  she  added,  eagerly,  "I  have  written 


88  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

one  which  I  think  would  please  you.  It  is  called 
The  Return  of  a  Dear  One,'  and  has  reference  to 
the  nephew  you  told  me  of." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "I  shall  be 
very  happy  to  hear  it" — and  she  went  down  the 
steps  with  Anne. 

"Does  she  really  write  poetry?"  asked  Anne. 

"Yes,  and  sometimes  very  fair  poetry.  Remem- 
ber she  has  been  well  educated,  is  a  great  reader, 
and  the  harmless  habit  of  writing  cheers  many  of 
her  lonely  days.  Poor  soul,  it  must  have  been  hard 
after  a  life  of  luxury  to  come  down  to  comparative 
poverty." 

"But  she  owns  this  house,"  said  Anne. 

"Yes,  and  that  is  all.  The  rent  is  very  low,  but 
she  has  a  home  and  a  small  income,  and  that  is 
something  in  one's  old  age.  She  is  very  kind  to 
think  enough  of  us  to  write  about  Ralph." 

"Oh,  Cousin  Selina,  can  I  see  it?"  asked  Anne. 

"I'll  get  her  to  let  me  take  a  copy,"  said  the 
other. 

"Thank  you.  It's  pathetic  to  think  of  her  living 
all  by  herself.  If  only  she  had  a  brother,  now," 
said  Anne,  in  the  half  pity,  half  joy  of  her  so  lately 
acquired  acquisition. 


COUSIN  FANNY'S   DILEMMA  89 

"Here  we  separate,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  and 
each  went  her  way,  Ar.ne  towards  a  substantial  red 
brick  mansion,  not  quite  as  spacious  or  elegant  as 
the  house  her  Aunt  Hannah  owned,  but  a  very  fine 
house  of  its  kind. 

"Aunt  Hannah  is  here,"  she  said  to  herself,  for 
her  aunt's  carriage  stood  at  the  door,  and  Adolphus. 
the  very  black  negro  driver,  smiled  as  she  paused. 
She  had  half  a  mind  not  to  go  in,  for  Aunt  Hannah 
always  chilled  her,  except  when  by  some  inuendo  or 
covert  sneer  she  set  all  her  veins  on  fire. 

"I  won't  "be  silly,"  she  said  to  herself,  resolutely, 
and  went  in.  She  was  passing  the  parlor  when  she 
heard  a  loud  cry,  and  out  came  Fanny,  her  cousin, 
all  flounces  and  ribbons,  and  caught  her  by  the 
arms. 

"Oh,  come  in  and  persuade  her,  do  come  in  and 
persuade  her,"  her  Cousin  Fanny,  still  clinging  to 
her,  exclaimed.  "If  she  goes,  I  go.  Please,  please 
come  in  and  make  her  say  yes,"  she  added  almost 
tragically.  "It  will  be  the  event  of  my  life." 

"Persuade  to  what?  are  you  going  crazy,  Fanny? 
Take  your  hands  off — they  hurt  me.  Explain  your- 
self; what  am  I  to  do?" 


90  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Why,"  said  Fanny,  breathless,  "mamma  says  I 
may  go  if  she  will." 

"Yes,  but  who  is  she?  I'm  all  in  the  dark.  Come 
up  in  my  room  and  you  can  tell  me  about  it/'  said 
Anne,  breathless. 

"No,  no — it  must  be  done  now.  Aunt  Martha 
must  say  yes — and  you  must  help  her.  Come  into 
the  parlor.  Mamma  is  there." 

"But  I  don't  want  to,"  Anne  said  petulantly. 

"But  you  must,  you  shall;'  and  Fanny,  half  led, 
half  dragged  her  unwilling  cousin  into  the  room  of 
state. 

Anne  saw  her  Aunt  Hannah  seated  like  a  queen 
on  a  throne,  her  heavy  velvet  wraps  thrown  back 
from  her  portly  figure,  and  the  rich  folds  of  her 
dress  falling  about  her  feet.  The  woman  loved  to 
pose  in  this  fashion. 

Opposite  was  her  Sister  Martha,  quite  as  large 
and  almost  as  imposing.  She  sat  on  a  sofa,  her 
bronze-colored  dress  matching  the  brown  uphol- 
stery, and  there  was  a  look  of  perplexity  in  her  face 
that  Anne  knew  by  intuition  was  the  result  of  inde- 
cision. Quite  near  them  both  sat  Aunt  Fanny,  a 
docile,  meek-eyed  nonentity  of  a  woman,  splen- 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA.  91 

didly  dressed,  but  otherwise  exceedingly  common- 
place in  appearance.  This  was  Fanny's  mother. 

"Anne  knows  how  frightened  I  am  of  the  water," 
said  her  Aunt  Martha.  "She  has  often  heard  me 
speak  of  it." 

"Oh,  but  Aunt  Martha,  in  one  of  those  splendid 
steamers,"  Fanny  broke  in.  "Why  it's  just  the 
same  as  being  in  a  great  palace,  isn't  it,  Aunt  Han- 
nah ?  You'd  never  know  you  were  on  the  water  if 
you  didn't  see  the  ocean  all  the  time." 

"We  are  trying  to  persuade  your  Aunt  Martha 
to  go  abroad  with  us,"  Aunt  Hannah  said,  in  an- 
swer to  Anne's  perplexed,  questioning  look.  "I 
think  it  will  do  her  good,"  and  having  delivered  her 
little  speech  in  the  measured  accents  she  always 
affected,  she  crossed  her  hands  and  settled  back  in 
her  chair. 

"And  if  she  goes,  I  am  to  go/'  Fanny  interposed. 
"It's  the  longing  of  my  life  to  go  abroad." 

Anne's  heart  beat  more  quickly  than  its  wont. 
Aunt  Martha's  going  meant  immunity  to  her,  from 
daily  warfare,  and  from  many  minor  but  perplexing 
cares.  It  meant,  perhaps,  the  shutting  up  of  the 
gloomy  old  house — gloomy  to  her  with  its  dearth 
of  youthful  company — her  own  transference  to 


92  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

more  congenial  surroundings — it  meant  in  fact  a 
long  and  beautiful  holiday  and  the  companionship 
of  Cousin  Selina  and  her  own  brother.  Oh,  if  she 
would  but  make  up  her  mind  to  go ! 

"Aunt  Martha,  I  would,  if  I  were  you,"  she  said, 
turning  to  her  aunt,  who  regarded  her  with  pursed 
up  lips  and  a  slight  frown.  "You  can't  help  having 
a  good  time." 

"I  don't  know  about  it,"  was  the  ungracious 
answer. 

"And  there  are  so  many  wonderful  things  to  be 
seen  on  the  continent,"  supplemented  Aunt  Han- 
nah. 

"And  things  are  so  cheap  there/'  put  in  the 
small  weak  voice  of  Aunt  Fanny,  who  sat  shaking 
her  foot  back  and  forth,  as  her  habit  was. 

"I  hate  the  water — and  I  don't  like  the  idea  of 
leaving  home,  and  your  uncle/'  said  Aunt  Martha. 

All  at  once  the  terrible  thought  that  probably 
she  was  expected  to  stay  at  home  and  take  charge 
of  house  and  servants  and  uncle  occurred  to  Anne. 
In  this  sudden  rush  of  fear  she  was  minded  to  use 
all  her  influence  against  the  matter,  for  she  knew 
that  her  detainment  meant  work,  far  more  than  she 
could  do,  and  the  constant  companionship  of  a 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  93 

fussy,  small-minded  man — meals  to  order  for  his 
refreshment  and  constant  submittal  to  his  grum- 
bling, and  to  spoiled  servants. 

"I  suppose  I  could  take  care  of  it  all,"  she  began, 
slowly,  as  if  thinking  aloud,  "but  I  don't  know.  I'd 
do  my  best  for  the  house  and  Uncle  Benjamin. 

"Why,  you  don't  suppose  I'd  leave  things  in 
your  charge,"  said  Aunt  Martha,  roused  from  her 
reverie,  and  changing  to  a  bolt  upright  position. 
"You  must  be  a  fool  to  think  that — I  leave  the 
house  and  servants  and  my  husband  to  an  inexperi- 
enced chit  of  a  girl.  No,  indeed,  if  I  do  go  this 
house  is  shut  up,  and  Benjamin  goes  to  a  hotel,  and 
you  to  boarding  somewhere." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Aunt  Hannah. 

"Of  course,"  faintly  chirrupped  Aunt  Fanny. 

With  every  word  of  her  aunt's  protest,  Anne's 
heart  grew  lighter.  Then  if  her  aunt  went  she 
would  be  as  free  as  a  bird. 

"Oh,  Aunt  Martha,  I  know  you'll  go  for  my 
sake,"  said  Cousin  Fanny.  "It  might  be  such  a 
great  advantage  to  me  as  well  as  you.  Think  of 
having  a  duke,  perhaps,  for  your  nephew." 

"Drat  a  duke;  I  wouldn't  go  at  all,  miss,  if  I 
thought  that's  what  you  are  fishing  for,"  her  aunt 

7 


94  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

said  testily.  "If  I  go,  I  shall  go  for  my  own  good, 
and  if  your  mother  is  willing  to  let  you  go  with  me 
I'll  take  as  good  care  of  you  as  I  can — but  no  dukes 
come  into  my  family." 

"Well,"  said  Aunt  Hannah,  "I've  expressed  my 
wishes.  It  would  be  very  pleasant  for  me,  if  you 
decided  to  go,  and  as  I  said,  I  will  pay  your  ex- 
penses for  the  sake  of  having  company.  But  I  don't 
urge  you  against  your  better  judgment" — and  she 
gathered  up  her  voluminous  draperies.  "I  think  it 
would  do  you  good  to  get  away  from  your  hum- 
drum sort  of  life,  and  see  the  world  for  awhile.  Six 
months  is  not  so  very  long.  Benjamin  could  do 
without  you  for  that  time,  and  he  wants  you  to  go 
— he  told  me  so." 

"Did  he?"  queried  Aunt  Martha,  and  she  looked 
as  if  a  load  was  taken  off  of  her  mind.  "Did  he 
really  say  so?" 

"Yes,  he  said  you  were  looking  peaked  and  he 
thought  a  sea  voyage  would  be  the  best  thing  you 
could  have,  in  fine  he  said  it  would  be  better  all 
round,  that  a  change  was  good  for  anybody.  Of 
course,  he'll  miss  you,  but  he'll  get  along.  Men 
always  do." 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  95 

"I  sort  o'  thought  he'd  oppose  it,"  murmured 
Aunt  Martha. 

"Not  in  the  least — he  says  a  trip  of  that  kind  is 
broadening  and  elevating,  and  if  it  wasn't  for  busi- 
ness he'd  like  to  go  along." 

Aunt  Martha  was  evidently  much  exercised. 
Benjamin's  word  was  law  to  her,  and  if  Benjamin 
approved  of  it,  well — really,  she  didn't  know  but 
she  might  think  about  it.  She  began  to  ruminate 
over  sundry  symptoms  that  had  beset  her  lately, 
little  twinges  of  rheumatism,  a  stab  now  and  then 
of  neuralgia,  dread  of  coming  grip,  and  the  pic- 
tures that  Aunt  Hannah  and  her  niece  had  drawn  of 
her  possible  travels  assumed  new  beauty.  She  had 
been  tied  to  her  household  duties  for  twenty  years 
and  in  all  that  time  had  taken  very  few  vacations. 
Why  should  she  not  for  once  enjoy  herself?  Fainter 
and  fainter  grew  her  doubts,  brighter  and  brighter 
the  prospective  pleasure.  When  at  last  Aunt  Han- 
nah had  gathered  the  folds  of  her  dress  in  conven- 
ient position  for  leaving,  Fanny's  joy  knew  no 
bounds.  She  kissed  her  aunt,  and  her  pretty  face 
was  luminous,  as  she  caught  Anne  by  the  shoulder. 

"I  always  do  get  what  I  want,"  she  said,  with  a 
gleeful  little  laugh.  "I  always  do.  Mamma  is  just 


96  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

about  as  pleased  as  I  am,  though  she  doesn't  care 
much  about  my  going.  But,  you  know,  mamma 
is  always  pleased  if  I  am,  and  I  can  wind  her  round 
my  little  finger." 

Aunt  Hannah  stopped  in  the  hall  to  speak  to 
Anne. 

"Well,  how  is  the  sailor  lad?"  she  asked,  in  a 
hard,  forced  voice. 

Anne  told  her — feeling  almost  as  if  she  were 
talking  to  an  enemy. 

"Humph — I  hope  he'll  get  well,  though  he  had 
much  better  have  gone  to  our  hospital.  He'd  have 
got  the  right  attention  there." 

"He  is  getting  the  right  attention,  now,  I  think/' 
said  Anne,  speaking  warmly.  "No  one  would  nurse 
him  as  Cousin  Selina  does." 

"And  a  fool  for  her  pains,  I  fear,"  was  the  re- 
joinder, at  which  Anne  clinched  her  hands,  fiercely, 
but  said  nothing. 

"You  are  very  much  like  your  Aunt  Selina," 
Aunt  Hannah  began  again.  "I  suppose  you  would 
not  go  abroad." 

"Oh,  no,  I  wouldn't  leave  my  studies  now,"  said 
Anne. 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  97 

"Nor  your  new  brother,  of  course.  Well,  all  I 
can  say  is,  I  wish  you  were  more  like  your  Cousin 
Fanny.  She  will  be  of  some  importance  to  the 
world  and  society,  while  you  are  lost  in  some  old 
country  place,  taking  care  of  your  brother." 

*  There  was  a  covert  sneer  in  the  words,  but  a  pos- 
sibility of  their  truth  in  the  near  future  deprived 
them  of  their  sting,  to  Anne's  consciousness. 

"Oh,  if  I  only  may  be,"  she  said,  fervently. 

Meantime  Marie  had  finished  the  work  allotted 
to  her,  and  now  sat  on  a  low  chair,  her  hands  folded 
on  her  knees,  her  thoughts  busy  with  the  past. 
Cousin  Selina  noticed  the  girl's  abstraction,  and 
called  her  attention  to  something  she  had  in  hand. 
Marie  started  up,  all  eagerness,  and  ready  to  do 
the  slightest  bidding,  as  she  always  was,  but  her 
friend  wisely  restrained  her. 

"You  look  tired,"  she  said — "and  you  have  been 
in  the  house  all  day.  Go  out  and  take  a  long  walk. 
You  are  accustomed  to  the  fresh  air." 

Marie  was  glad  to  go.  The  sights  and  sounds  of 
the  street  distracted  her  attention  from  her  own 
thoughts.  She  was  a  child  of  the  sunshine,  but  she 
realized  the  change  in  her  condition  as  she  paused 
now  and  then,  from  force  of  habit,  to  look  into  the 


98  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

shop  windows.  Once  she  had  wished,  almost  curi- 
ously, for  so  many  things  quite  beyond  her  means, 
but  that  other  girls  of  her  age  possessed.  Now  she 
was  quietly  happy,  sure  of  a  home,  of  sympathy, 
and  even  love. 

"Why,  Marie !"  said  a  sweet  voice. 

"Miss  Anne!"  responded  Marie,  eagerly. 

"How  is  my  brother?"  Anne  asked. 

"He  wasn't  so  well,  a  little  while  ago,"  Marie 
said,  "but  he  was  better  when  I  left." 

"I'm  afraid  he  is  worse  than  I  think,"  said  Anne, 
her  face  clouding.  "I  was  just  going  there  with 
some  news  for  Cousin  Selina." 

"And  I'll  go  back  with  you,"  Marie  said.  "I've 
had  a  good  walk." 

So  they  went  to  the  old  stone  house  together. 
As  they  were  passing  a  certain  mansion,  just  round 
the  corner  from  the  home  of  Cousin  Selina,  and 
near  enough  to  see  the  half  dozen  windows  that 
gave  upon  that  place,  in  fact,  were  almost  directly 
opposite,  a  wan,  white  face  was  looking  from  one 
of  the  windows,  fronting  the  park.  The  girls 
stopped  there  one  or  two  seconds,  and  the  occu- 
pant of  the  window  stared  down  into  Marie's  face. 
A  great  change  came  over  his  own  countenance. 


COUSIN  FANNY'S  DILEMMA  99 

He  put  up  his  hands  to  open  the  window,  but  they 
were  invalid  hands  and  would  not  do  his  bidding. 
Again  he  tried,  and  again  failed,  the  little  excite- 
ment had  passed,  and  the  girls  had  gone  on.  Only 
round  the  corner — but  how  did  he  know  where. 
Regret,  a  sort  of  passion  and  a  helpless  falling  back 
into  the  great  arm  chair,  followed  their  disappear- 
ance. 

"If  I  only  were  well !  If  I  only  could  have 
reached  her!"  he  said  in  a  voice  intensified  by  deep 
feeling,  "but  this  long  sickness  has  so  paralyzed 
me." 

The  sick  man's  room  was  large  and  well  fur- 
nished. There  were  several  musical  instruments 
in  their  cases,  leaning  against  the  wall,  and  a  grand 
piano  stood  in  solitary  grandeur  in  the  middle  of 
the  room. 

It  was  the  old  music  master,  whose  coming 
sweetest  Marie  had  waited  for  so  patiently.  Had 
she  but  looked  up  or  noticed  the  sign  on  the  door ! 
But  he  was  never  further  away  from  her  mind  than 
then,  though  she  frequently  thought  of  him. 

The  girls  walked  on  to  the  old  stone  house,  and 
Marie  went  in  her  own  little  room  across  the  hall. 


100  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

It  was  her  harbor  of  refuge.  She  often  asked  her- 
self, "I  wonder  if  mother  can  see  how  well  I  am 
cared  for?" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE. 

Anne  meantime  went  into  the  room  beautiful.  It 
was  darkened,  and  her  aunt  sat  at  the  window, 
knitting. 

"How  is  Ralph?"  asked  Anne,  drawing  up  a 
chair  noiselessly. 

"Sleeping  sweetly,"  was  the  answer.  "You  look 
as  if  you  had  something  to  tell.  Has  Aunt  Martha 
relented?" 

"Only  in  this  way.  When  I  told  her  Aunt  Han- 
nah had  given  fifty  dollars  for  Ralph's  benefit,  she 
said  she  would  give  fifty  dollars,  too." 

"That's  very  kind/'  said  Cousin  Selina.  "It  will 
help  pay  doctor's  bills." 

"But  I  don't  think  she  feels  a  bit  better  towards 
him;  it's  only  the  idea  of  being  outdone  by  Aunt 
Hannah." 

"Let  us  suppose  that  she  does  it  for  love,"  said 

Cousin  Selina. 

(101) 


102  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Now  you  know  that's  impossible/'  Anne  spoke 
with  some  petulance. 

"Nothing  is  impossible,"  was  her  quiet  reply. 
"Well,  what  else?" 

"How  do  you  know  I've  anything  else  to  tell?" 
and  Anne  snuggled  nearer. 

"I  see  it  in  your  eyes." 

"Cousin  Selina,  you're  an  awfully  clever  woman, 
and  you  don't  know  it,"  said  Anne  with  a  chuckle. 
"I  have  got  some  important  news  for  you — that  is, 
it's  important  to  me.  I  wonder  what  you  will  say?" 

"Well,  my  dear,  what  is  it?"  was  the  smiling 
response. 

"Aunt  Hannah  is  trying  to  persuade  Aunt  Martha 
to  go  to  Europe  with  her,  and  take  Cousin  Fanny 
along.  You  couldn't  hire  Aunt  Fanny  to  go,  but 
she  is  willing  her  daughter  should,  and  Fanny  her- 
self is  quite  wild  with  delight.  She  is  beginning  to 
pack  and  talks  of  nothing  but  the  silks  and  satins 
and  laces  she  shall  buy  in  London  and  Paris.  My 
dear,  she  has  made  a  list  that  long/'  and  she  laugh- 
ingly measured  with  her  hands. 

"It  will  be  such  a  nice  thing  for  Fanny,"  said 
Cousin  Selina. 

"But,  Cousin  Selina,  where  do  I  come  in?    What 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  103 

am  I  going  to  do?  Uncle  will  go  to  a  hotel,  and  I 
suppose  they  are  planning  to  put  me  in  a  boarding 
house.  No,  I  thank  you,"  and  there  was  a  very 
decided  ring  to  her  voice. 

"My  dear,  they  ought  to  take  you  along,"  was 
Cousin  Selina's  answer. 

"No,  Aunt  Hannah  doesn't  want  me ;  you  know 
I'm  not  a  bit  like  Cousin  Fanny.  She  thinks  I'm 
poky  and  slow  because  I  can't  like  just  the  things 
she  does.  And  I  don't  care  particularly  to  go.  I'm 
too  much  afraid  of  the  water.  Besides  there's 
school,  and  I  wouldn't  leave  that  now.  You  know 
I'm  to  graduate  soon." 

"That's  true,"  Cousin  Selina  said,  thoughtfully. 
"Of  course,  you  ought  not  to  leave  school." 

"I  believe  I'll  take  that  opportunity  to  run  away," 
Anne  said,  laughing. 

"Don't  run  further  than  to  this  street  and  num- 
ber," said  the  little  woman. 

"There,  that's  just  what  I  was  waiting  to  hear 
you  say,"  said  Anne,  jumping  up  and  kissing  her. 
"Of  course  I  shall  run  right  here.  And  I'll  help  you 
so  much  that  you  won't  need  to  keep  this  girl." 
Cousin  Selina's  countenance  expressed  doubt. 
"And  when  Ralph  gets  well,  I'm  going  to  keep 


104  ""HE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

house  for  him.  Won't  it  be  splendid?  I  should  be 
so  proud  and  happy  to  keep  house  for  Ralph,  and  to 
care  for  his  comfort.  We  could  live  in  two  or  three 
little  rooms,  such  dear  little  rooms,  or  a  little  cot- 
tage in  the  country  that  I  could  furnish.  It  would 
be  the  fulfillment  of  the  dream  of  my  life  to  take 
care  of  somebody,  particularly  my  own  dear 
brother,  even  if  he  continues  to  be  delicate  and 
can't  work.  The  little  income  I  shall  have  by  and 
by  would  almost  support  us.  Wouldn't  it  be 
beautiful?" 

"That  depends  on  what  kind  of  a  housekeeper 
you  would  make,"  said  Cousin  Selina. 

"Well,  as  to  that,  I  shall  take  lessons  of  you 
you  will  be  my  teacher." 

"With  pleasure — you  know  that,"  Cousin  Selina 
responded. 

"Well,  I  shall  come.  You  mustn't  regret  your 
promise.  I'm  quite  sure  Aunt  Hannah  will  prevail 
on  Aunt  Martha  to  go,  because  yesterday  Aunt 
Martha  began  to  look  over  her  wardrobe,  and  that's 
a  sure  sign.  She  has  lots  of  fine  old  dresses,  some- 
what out  of  fashion,  which  she  says  she  will  give 
me,  and  I  may  sell  them  or  do  what  I  please  with 
them.  They're  none  of  them  half  worn  out,  and 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  105 

there's  such  pretty  trimming,  expensive,  too.  I  can 
make  them  over;  you  know  I  have  a  genius  to  make 
old  things  almost  as  good  as  new,  just  as  you  have. 
And,  by  the  way,  some  of  them  can  be  made  into 
nice  gowns  for  Marie.  She  does  look  so  like  a  little 
old-fashioned  picture  in  even  her  best  dress.  What 
a  good  time  we  shall  have  fixing  her  up.  But 
where  are  you  going  to  put  me  ?" 

"Oh,  we'll  find  a  place,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
thinking  of  one  or  two  unoccupied  rooms  upstairs. 
"If  there's  no  other  room,  why  the  garret  might 
do" — and  her  eyes  twinkled. 

"I  won't  go  there,  you  know  I  won't.  It's  LOO 
far  away  from  you,  and  it  always  gives  me  the 
creeps,  it's  so  big.  You  couldn't  hire  me  to  sleep 
there.  I  should  feel  lost." 

"Well,  don't  worry  about  it,  my  dear.  I  think 
we  can  find  plenty  of  room  lower  down,"  Cousin 
Selina  said. 

"And  may  I  come  soon — right  away?"  Anne 
asked. 

"Come  just  as  soon  as  you  want  to;  tonight  if 
you  wish,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "I  can  put  up  a  cot 
in  Marie's  room,  if  you  don't  mind  sleeping  there." 

"Mind  it!     I   shall   like   it  of  all  things,"   said 


106  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Anne,  joyously.  "I  always  hated  to  be  alone,  and 
she  is  so  nice  and  sweet.  I  think  I'll  go  and  culti- 
vate her." 

"That's  right/'  said  Cousin  Selina,  folding  up  her 
knitting. 

Anne  ran  across  the  hall. 

"Do  you  want  company?"  she  asked,  tapping 
at  the  door  which  was  open  a  little. 

"Why,  yes,  of  course  I  do,"  said  Marie,  coming 
forward,  holding  up  her  apron,  which  was  rain- 
bowed  with  bits  of  muslin  and  calico. 

"What  are  you  making?  Oh,  pieces  for  a  quilt, 
I  see" — and  Anne  took  the  only  other  chair,  and 
sat  down  by  the  window. 

"Yes,  I  am  going  to  make  one  for  Cousin  Se- 
lina," said  Marie.  "She  gave  me  the  pieces." 

"Grateful  little  thing,"  thought  Anne. 

"How  would  you  like  me  for  a  room-mate?"  was 
Anne's  next  question. 

"Why — very  much,"  said  Marie,  pausing  in  her 
work  of  cutting  out  a  square.  "Are  you  joking?" 

"No,  I'm  really  coming  here.  Aunt  Martha,  who 
has  been  a  sort  of  mother  to  me,  is  going  to  Eu- 
rope, and  I'm  going  to  stay  behind  and  live  with 
Cousin  Selina,  while  she  is  gone.  Though  there 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  107 

may  be  other  rooms,  I  like  this,  and  I  like  you,  so 
Cousin  Selina  is  going  to  put  a  cot  bed  in  here  for 
me.  There's  plenty  of  room." 

"That  will  be  delightful.  Then  you  will  be  with 
your  brother  all  the  time,"  said  Marie. 

"All  the  time  I  am  not  at  school,"  was  the  smil- 
ing response. 

"Oh !  school !"  and  Marie's  countenance — so  ex- 
pressive that  one  could  almost  read  her  thoughts — 
suddenly  fell,  and  she  sighed. 

"It  must  be  beautiful  to  go  to  school,"  she  said. 
"I  never  went." 

"Never  went  to  school !"  Anne  looked  incredu- 
lous. "But  you — you  read,  and  write,  of  course 
you  do." 

"Oh,  yes,"  Marie  answered  simply.  "My  mother 
was  the  daughter  of  a  Swiss  clergyman.  I  have 
some  of  his  letters  to  her.  So  she  was  well  edu- 
cated, and  she  taught  me,  herself,  till  I  was  thir- 
teen. I  was  to  go  to  school  then,  but  some  mis- 
fortune came,  and  father  grew  very  poor,  and  at 
last  went  home  for  his  health  and  to  get  some 
money  if  he  could.  He  never  came  back — he  died 
there.  Mother  got  word  and  it  seemed  to  break  her 
down.  She  never  was  well  afterward,  but  she  kept 


108  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

up  and  worked  very  hard,  and  went  on  teaching 
me — so  you  see  I  never  had  the  good  fortune  to  go 
to  school.  But  I  do  know  something." 

"See  here,"  said  Anne,  intensely  interested, 
"can't  we  keep  it  up,  the  teaching?  I  can  give  you 
lessons  and  I'm  sure  you  will  have  plenty  of  time 
for  study." 

"I'm  afraid  I  should  try  your  patience,"  said 
Marie,  "but  I  promise  you  I'd  work  very  hard.  Oh" 
— she  let  her  work  fall — "I  knew  I  should  be  very 
happy  here,  but  I  never  dreamed  anyone  would 
wish  to  teach  me.  Why — I  want  to  know — every- 
thing." 

"I  can't  teach  you  everything,"  Anne  said,  laugh- 
ing at  her  enthusiasm,  "but  I  can  help  you  very 
much.  You  are  welcome  to  all  my  books.  I'll  have 
them  brought  over  here  tomorrow.  I've  been 
studying  music  for  years,  but  I  couldn't  teach  you 
that,  because  there's  no  piano  here.  But  Cousin 
Selina  plays  very  sweetly  on  the  guitar,  and  I  have 
studied  it  a  little." 

"I  don't  care  for  the  piano,  nor  the  guitar — I 
mean  not  to  study  either — I  love  the  violin,  and  if 
I  am  ever  able  I  will  study  that.  My  father  played 
on  it  beautifully — and  on  long  winter  evenings  he 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  109 

would  make  it  sing  and  talk  for  mother  and  me. 
Oh,  dear,  I  can  see  him  now,  his  figure  against 
the  fire  light — and  the  violin,  I  don't  so  much  re- 
member his  face — but,  oh,  we  had  such  good 
times !  And  then  everything  went  wrong.  Some- 
times I  get  so  puzzled  wondering  why,  when  they 
were  both  so  good,  and  so  happy.  And  I  think 
as  my  mother  did,  that  if  they  had  both  remained  in 
Switzerland,  among  friends  and  relatives,  it  would 
have  been  better,  but  my  father's  cousin  came  over 
here  and  wrote  back  such  fine  letters  of  what  could 
be  done  in  this  country  that  father  thought  it  would 
be  an  easy  thing  to  make  a  fortune  in  a  very  short 
time.  When  this  cousin  returned  to  Switzerland 
he  carried  with  him  such  lovely  views  of  the  new 
country,  that  both  my  father  and  mother  were 
anxious  to  come  to  America.  Well,  they  came,  and 
suffered,  and  they  both  died  and  left  me  alone." 

"You  poor  little  thing!"  said  impulsive  Anne, 
kissing  her,  "your  story  makes  me  both  miserable 
and  happy.  Miserable  because  it  makes  me  think 
of  my  own  loss,  for  I  am  an  orphan,  you  know. 
That  makes  it  so  doubly  sweet  to  find  my  brother, 
for  I  was  so  alone  before  that,  and  often  envied 
those  of  my  friends  who  had  brothers  and  sisters. 


HO  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

So  you  see  we  know  how  to  sympathize  with  each 
other,  We'll  be  sisters,  let's  make  a  compact.  Let 
me  see,  what  does  one  have  to  do  to  make  a  com- 
pact? Just  declare  that  we  will  from  henceforth 
adopt  each  other — how  is  that?" 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Marie.  "Oh,  I  am  so 
fortunate !  Now,  if  I  could  only  find  my  dear  old 
man!" 

It  was  Anne's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked.  "What  dear 
old  man?" 

"A  dear  old  gentleman  with  a  noble,  handsome 
face,  and  white  hair/'  was  Marie's  answer.  "He 
met  me  one  day  when  I  was  selling  papers,  and  I 
was  admiring  a  beautiful  violin  in  one  of  the  stores. 
You  don't  know  how  good  he  was  to  me — and  he 
said  he  would  call  at  the  little  German's  shop, 
where  I  was  staying,  and  that  he  was  a  violin 
teacher,  and  I  should  study  with  him.  But  he  never 
came.  I  forgot  to  expect  him  as  the  time  went  on, 
and  perhaps  I  never  shall  see  him  again,  but  he 
was  so  kind,  as  kind  and  gentle  as  Cousin  Selina." 

"Wasn't  it  odd?"  was  Anne's  comment.  "Seems 
to  me  very  romantic  things  have  happened  to  you." 

"Oh  no,  only  twice,"  said  Marie.     "But  the  old 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  ]H 

gentleman  called  me  at  once  what  my  mother  and 
father  used  to  call  me,  that  is  when  I  told  him  my 
name." 

"And  what  was  that?"  asked  Anne,  very  much 
interested. 

"Sweetest  Marie/'  was  the  response. 

"How  could  he  know?"  asked  Anne. 

"He  didn't  know,  only,  strangely  enough,  he 
once  had  a  little  daughter  Marie,  and  he  always 
called  her  'sweetest  Marie/  ' 

"And  the  daughter — " 

"She  died,"  said  the  girl,  simply.  "He  said  he 
lost  her,  years  ago." 

"One  would  think  he  would  keep  his  word,"  said 
Anne. 

"Perhaps  he  couldn't.  I  looked  for  him  so  long 
— but  he  never  came." 

"Oh  you  may  see  him  yet,"  said  Anne. 

"Yes,  I  may.  But  you  know  I  never  could  leave 
Miss  Selina." 

"She  will  keep  you,  I'm  sure  she  will,"  was  the 
response,  "yes,  even  if  I  stay." 

"What  makes  you  say  that?"  asked  Marie.  She 
seemed  to  perceive  a  doubt  in  the  voice. 


112  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Why,  I'll  tell  you,  I  did  think  I  could  help 
Cousin  Selina  sufficiently,  if  I  came  here,"  said 
Anne,  frankly,  "but  I  see  now  how  impossible  that 
would  be  while  I  go  to  school.  Instead  of  that 
Aunt  Martha  proposes  to  pay  my  board,  and  you 
shall  stay  right  on.  Then  I  can  help  you  with  your 
studies,  and  you  don't  know  how  delighted  I  am 
at  the  prospect.  Then  Aunt  Martha  has  given 
me  a  lot  of  dresses,  out  of  fashion  but  every  one 
of  them  good,  and  you  and  I  can  make  them  over 
for  both  of  us.  There's  a  plum  colored  silk,  and  a 
navy  blue,  and  two  or  three  black  ones,  only  a 
little  worn,  and  I  love  dearly  to  make  dresses.  We 
shall  be  quite  smart.  Then  there's  Ralph,  now  that 
we  have  chosen  to  be  sisters,  he  must  be  a  brother 
to  both  of  us,  if  ony  he  gets  well.  Isn't  he  hand- 
some? And  when  he  gets  better  what  stories  he 
will  have  to  tell  of  foreign  lands." 

And  so  the  two  girls  chatted,  till  Cousin  Selina 
called  them,  an  hour  later. 

Ralph  was  sitting  up  in  bed  when  they  went  into 
the  "room  beautiful,"  and  he  greeted  them  with  a 
sailor's  warmth.  His  cheeks  were  flushed  and  his 
eyes  were  bright.  He  was  evidently  better  for  the 
long  rest  he  had  taken. 


A  GIRL'S  CONFERENCE  113 

And  after  tea,  Cousin  Selina  took  her  guitar 
from  its  case  and  played  some  sweet  old  airs.  The 
boy  seemed  almost  to  hold  his  breath  to  listen — 
and  the  evening  was  far  spent,  when  the  fire  bells 
rang  out,  loudly  and  shrilly,  and  they  ran  to  the 
window  to  see  the  corner  building  opposite  in 
flames. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE. 

"Oh  my  dear,  I'm  so  glad  it's  early  yet,"  said 
Cousin  Selina.  "The  house  seems  all  ablaze  in- 
side. And  see  the  poor  souls  running." 

At  that  moment  a  woman  appeared  at  the  win- 
dow with  a  baby  in  her  arms.  She  seemed  frenzied 
with  horror.  There  was  a  small  balcony  at  each 
window,  but  the  woman  seemed  to  have  lost  her 
presence  of  mind,  for  as  she  stepped  out  upon  the 
iron  frame  with  her  baby  in  her  arms  she  did  not 
close  the  window  behind  her.  For  a  moment  she 
stood  unsteadily,  then  made  a  movement  as  if  she 
would  spring  to  the  street  below. 

"Hold  on,"  the  shout  went  up,  "the  ladders  are 
coming."  She  did  not  seem  to  heed  the  cry.  Could 
she  hold  on?  The  heat  there  was  appalling. 

At  that  moment  the  ladder  was  put  up,  and  two 
men  mounted  it.  One  of  them  took  the  child  and 
passed  it  to  a  fireman  below  him,  while 

(114) 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE  115 

frantic  cheers  rent  the  air  on  every  side.  Then 
came  a  horrible  volume  of  smoke  so  black  that 
nothing  could  be  seen.  When  it  cleared  away,  the 
woman  was  not  there,  but  they  could  see  the  fire- 
man spring  into  the  very  midst  of  the  flames,  and  in 
a  space  of  time  between  heart  beats,  he  reappeared 
at  the  window  with  the  woman,  who  was  apparently 
insensible,  in  his  arms. 

"Oh  what  splendid  courage!"  exclaimed  Marie. 
"That  man  ought  to  have  a  gold  medal.  I  wonder 
if  there  are  any  poor  souls  left  there?  See,  they 
are  throwing  out  furniture,  and  the  flames  reach 
almost  over  here.  Is  there  danger  of  this  house 
catching?" 

"No,  I  think  not,"  said  Cousin  Selina.  "Miss 
Jack  is  out  there.  I  suppose  she  has  gone  to  get 
the  firemen  to  play  upon  her  property.  I  can 
imagine  she  is  terribly  frightened." 

"And — they  are  turning  the  hose  to  our  roof," 
cried  Anne.  "Let's  put  the  windows  down  or 
every  thing  will  be  wet." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Marie,  as  they  were  shutting 
the  windows,  "there's  my  old  gentleman !"  and  she 
clapped  her  hands. 

"Where?"  Anne  ejaculated — "where?" 


116  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Just  under  the  window  in  a  wheel  chair,  and 
Miss  Jack  is  walking  beside  him.  Don't  she  look 
funny?  See,  they  are  stopping  at  the  door." 

"And  the  two  men  behind  them  are  fairly  loaded 
down  with  music  and  instruments,"  said  Anne,  for- 
getting to  close  the  window  till  a  small  deluge  had 
wet  her  face  and  garments. 

"How  horrid!"  she  cried — "but  no  matter,  the 
fire  is  subdued,  and  I  don't  .think  the  whole  house 
will  burn  down.  And  now — how  curious!  Your 
old  gentleman,  as  you  call  him,  the  music-master, 
must  have  had  rooms  there." 

"Yes,  and  of  course  he  has  been  sick,  or  he 
wouldn't  be  in  a  wheel  chair.  Did  you  see  how 
pale  he  was?"  Marie  asked.  "And  wouldn't  it  be 
strange — if — " 

Miss  Jack  came  running  up  stairs,  almost  gasp- 
ing with  the  unwonted  exertion. 

"There's  a  chance  for  you  to  let  your  second 
front/'  she  said  to  Cousin  Selina — "he's  coming 
up — I  told  him  to.  Just  getting  over  a  fever,  but 
able  to  pay  handsomely." 

"Certainly,  I'll  go  right  up  stairs,"  said  Cousin 
Selina.  "I've  kept  the  room  well  aired.  Anne, 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE  117 

you  two  girls  go  and  tell  Ralph  that  the  fire  is  out. 
Stay  by  him  till  I  come  down." 

By  this  time  several  men  were  mounting  the 
broad  staircase.  Two  of  them  had  made  a  chair 
of  their  hands  in  which  the  invalid  sat  comfortably, 
his  arms  over  the  shoulders  of  the  bearers.  Cousin 
Selina  had  preceded  them,  and  the  great  room,  an 
almost  exact  duplicate  of  the  room  beautiful,  except 
that  it  held  more  modern  furniture,  was  all  ablaze 
with  light.  In  came  the  bearers  with  the  old  gen- 
tleman, and  carefully  deposited  him  in  a  big  arm 
chair  in  front  of  the  fire-place. 

"Well,  this  is  comfortable,"  he  said,  as  he  laid 
weakly  back.  "I'm  very  glad  we  didn't  have  to 
go  further.  I  had  no  idea  I  should  get  so  tired. 
Where's  Jock?" 

"We  left  him  getting  things  out  of  your  room." 

"All  right.  Tell  him  I  want  him,  and  to  let  the 
things  go.  The  piano  will  be  ruined,  of  course, 
but  no  matter.  Come  in  tomorrow,  boys,  and  I'll 
pay  you  for  your  trouble.  Oh,  by  the  way,  I  may 
have  a  little  change,"  and  he  proceeded  with  trem- 
bling fingers  to  search  for  his  purse,  a  queer, 
foreign-looking  affair  —  green,  with  glittering 
spangles — from  which  he  took  a  gold  coin. 


118  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Here  boys,  share  that  between  you,"  he  said, 
thrusting  it  into  the  outstretched  palm  of  one  of 
the  men,  "and  thank  you  kindly  for  your  assistance. 
If  you  want  more,  call  tomorrow." 

"Here's  plenty,  sir,"  one  of  the  men  said,  and 
they  shambled  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  an 
injunction  from  the  invalid  to  be  sure  and  send  Jock 
at  once. 

The  old  gentleman  lay  back  in  his  chair,  closing 
his  eyes.  When  he  opened  them,  he  saw  Cousin 
Selina,  and  started  forward,  a  keen  pleasure  in  his 
face. 

"You  are  the  landlady,  I  take  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
very  slight  foreign  accent. 

"Yes,  I  let  the  rooms,  furnished,"  she  answered 
quietly. 

"You  didn't  expect  a  tenant  in  this  fashion,"  he 
went  on,  with  a  grim  little  smile.  "Who  is  the  lady 
who  came  with  me  over  here?" 

"Oh,  you  mean  the  owner  of  the  house,"  said 
Cousin  Selina,  smiling,  as  she  thought  of  Miss 
Jack's  unique  costume. 

"The  owner,  is  she?  Well — she  looked — a  little 
queer,  I  thought.  But  what  a  fine  room!  on  the 
sunny  side,  too.  My  room  was  always  in  shadow 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE  119 

in  the  morning.  Yes,  a  very  nice  room.  I'm  glad 
to  be  here.  Haven't  been  out  for  over  a  month — 
but  when  one  is  in  danger  of  being  burned  to  death, 
you  know — such  a  harbor  as  this  is  a  god-send." 

"I  hope  it  hasn't  injured  you  to  be  moved,  sir," 
said  Cousin  Selina. 

"Oh,  no,  I  think  not.  I  was  a  trifle  scared 
though.  One  is  apt  to  be,  who  hasn't  quite 
regained  the  use  of  his  feet.  The  fever  was  long 
and  severe.  But  I'm  getting  over  it  well.  Of 
course  I  can  have  this  room — if  I  pay  for  it" — and 
he  chuckled  a  little. 

"Oh,  yes,  and  if  it  suits  you,"  was  the  response. 
"I  shall  be  very  glad."  Some  way  she  had  taken 
a  fancy  to  this  man  with  the  mellow  speech  and 
the  slight  brogue  that  made  it  musical.  There  was 
that  in  his  eyes  and  in  his  manner  that  spoke  of 
true  refinement.  He  declined  her  offer  of  refresh- 
ments, saying  that  his  man  would  be  over  soon  and 
would  attend  to  everything.  He  declined  a  fire, 
though  the  night  was  cool,  saying  that  he  had  had 
all  the  fire  he  wanted  for  one  night,  with  a  faint 
laugh,  and  Cousin  Selina  was  on  the  point  of  retir- 
ing when  the  door  opened,  and  a  thin,  dark,  hand- 
some man,  with  a  hump  on  his  back  and  an  anxious, 


120  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

worried  expression  of  countenance,  came  in  the 
room. 

"Ah,  here  is  Jock,  and  I'm  all  right,"  said  the 
invalid,  cheerily.  "Jock,  tm's  is  mv  landlady — I 
don't  know  her  name" — Cousin  Selina  gave  it, 
smiling — "but  if  I  need  anything  you  are  to  go  to 
her."  And  then  he  leaned  forward,  looking  a  little 
over  his  shoulder,  as  he  added,  "I'm  able  to  pay 
well  for  everything,  madam,"  and  Cousin  Selina, 
still  smiling  to  herself,  closed  the  door  and  went 
down  stairs,  where  Anne  plied  her  with  questions. 

"And  the  oddest  thing  of  all  is  that  Marie  knows 
him/'  said  Anne,  "and  he  promised  to  teach  her  on 
the  violin.  Well,  I'm  so  glad  you've  let  your  best 
room — it  has  been  empty  so  long!  And  now  I 
must  go  home  and  tell  all  this  exciting  news. 
Cousin  Selina,  I  hate  to  take  you  out,  but  I 
wouldn't  have  missed  this  experience  for  all  the 
world." 

"I  shall  enjoy  the  walk,"  was  Cousin  Selina's 
response/'  and  now  that  I  have  somebody  to  leave 
Ralph  with,  my  mind  is  quite  easy." 

"Yes,  and  as  soon  as  he  gets  well  enough  I  shall 
always  be  sure  of  an  escort,"  said  Anne,  gaily. 
"You'll  take  me  everywhere,  won't  you  Ralph?" 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE  121 

"Yes,  as  long  as  I  stay  ashore,"  was  Ralph's 
answer. 

"You'll  stay  ashore  always.  I'm  going  to  keep 
you,"  Anne  said,  promptly. 

"Maybe,"  was  the  quiet  response. 

"No  maybe  about  it — I've  planned  it  all  out/' 
Anne  responded.  "What's  the  use  of  having  found 
a  brother  if  one  can't  keep  him?"  and  the  two 
women  went  out  together,  after  Anne  had  whis- 
pered something  to  Ralph  that  made  him  laugh. 

If  the  boy  had  seemed  somewhat  disconcerted 
on  meeting  with  Anne,  he  appeared  to  be  quite 
comfortable  in  Marie's  presence.  His  roving  life, 
his  contact  with  every  grade  of  mankind  had  per- 
haps changed  his  nature.  Anne  was  a  delicate, 
beautiful  girl,  refined  in  all  her  ways,  and  who  had 
known  only  the  finer  side  of  life.  Marie  was 
younger,  more  childish,  more  familiar  with  poverty, 
and  he  did  not  mind  asking  her  to  help  him,  or 
being  served  by  her. 

And  to  Marie,  Ralph  was  a  wonder.  There  was 
a  great  deal  of  romance  in  her  character  that  had 
been  fostered  by  her  mother's  deep  love  for  the 
home  of  her  heart,  beautiful  Switzerland.  She  had 
told  stories  by  the  hour  of  its  glorious  regions,  the 


122  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

history  of  its  brave  people,  its  legends,  its  wonderful 
beauty,  and  all  this  had  fostered  strange  and 
unwonted  feelings  in  the  heart  of  the  child,  so  that 
the  thought  of  foreign  lands  and  foreign  scenes 
often  transfigured  her  meager  surroundings,  and 
she  lived  in  a  world  of  her  own.  She  looked  upon 
Ralph  as  a  hero  because  he  had  seen  almost  every 
part  of  the  known  world.  To  do  his  lightest  bid- 
ding was  utter  happiness  to  her,  and  that  with  his 
almost  ideal  beauty  made  her  a  slave  to  his  every 
command. 

When  Cousin  Selina  and  Anne  had  left  the  room 
the  boy  seemed  very  wide  awake.  He  had  not 
talked  much  before  nor  seemed  particularly  inter- 
ested in  the  fire.  Now  he  called  for  more  pillows 
and  Marie  piled  them  under  his  head. 

"There,  that's  comfortable,"  he  said.  "You're 
not  very  busy  are  you?" 

"No,"  she  answered  smilingly,  "all  I'm  expected 
to  do  is  to  look  after  you." 

"That's  right,  then  I  can  talk  to  you,"  he  said. 

She  brought  a  chair  and  sat  down  by  his  bedside, 
quite  willing,  indeed  eager  to  amuse  him  if  it  was 
in  her  power. 


WHAT  CAME  OP  THE  FIRE  123 

"Who  are  you,  anyway?"  he  asked.  "I  mean 
what  position  do  you  occupy  in  this  palatial  house- 
hold?" 

His  bantering  tone  did  not  seem  to  please  her — 
it  appeared  like  a  reflection  on  Cousin  Selina,  and 
she  looked  at  him  curiously,  wonderingly. 

"I'm  in  earnest,"  he  said.  "I  don't  know  who 
you  are." 

"Why — I'm  Marie.  I'm  an  orphan,  and  that 
good  woman,  your  aunt,  has  taken  me  in  to  help 
her — and  you,"  she  answered. 

"You're  an  orphan,  are  you?  So  am  I.  Don't 
you  think  it  jolly,  rather,  to  be  an  orphan?" 

She  was  not  prepared  for  this,  and  the  quick  tears 
filled  her  eyes. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  your  feelings/'  said  the 
boy.  "Are  you  crying?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  my  mother,"  half  sobbed  the 
girl. 

"Perhaps  you  have  just  lost  her.  I  didn't  think 
of  that,"  he  said. 

"No — mother  has  been  dead  three  years,"  and 
she  checked  her  grief. 

"Well,  you  see  I  never  knew  my  mother,"  he 
went  on,  "and  my  father,  though  he  was  kind, 


124  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

couldn't  give  me  all  I  wanted,  so  I  ran  away.  It 
was  beastly,  I  suppose,  but  I  didn't  think  so,  then. 
Boys  of  that  age  don't  reason  much.  Well,  then 
he  died.  What  I  mean  by  it's  being  jolly  is,  that 
when  you  happen  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  kind 
people  they  pity  you  more  because  of  your  being 
an  orphan — see?  So  Cousin  Selina  has  adopted 
you?" 

"Oh  no — she  is  only  giving  me  a  home,  I  don't 
know  for  how  long — while  you  are  sick  anyway. 
She  took  me  out  of  pity  I  suppose,  seeing  that  I 
had  to  work  so  horribly  in  the  German  shop." 

"What  German  shop,  pray?"  he  began  to  look 
amused. 

"Where  I  had  to  sell  beer,  and  oh,  I  hated  it  so. 
And  my  mother  owed  them  rent,  and  so  I  had  to 
work  it  out.  I  really  and  truly  think  I  paid  them 
for  every  cent.  I  have  had  to  work  on  the  street, 
selling  papers.  There  was  no  other  way.  I  hope 
now  she  will  keep  me.  I'd  work  my  fingers  to  the 
bone  to  please  her.  What  did  you  use  to  do  before 
you  were  sick?"  she  questioned  him  in  her  turn. 

"I" — he  half  yawned,  hiding  his  face  with  his 
well  hand — "oh,  I  went  to  sea." 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  FIRE  125 

"That  must  have  been  splendid,"  she  said,  in  a 
kind  of  rapture,  her  eyes  shining. 

"Splendid !  Well,  it's  one  thing  to  go  on  board 
ship  like  a  gentleman,  with  plenty  of  money,  first- 
class  cabin  table,  and  nothing  to  do,  and  another 
to  go  as  a  poor  boy  before  the  mast.  Hard  work ! 
You  can't  begin  to  imagine  what  hard  work 
means." 

"And  have  you  ever  been  round  the  world?"  she 
asked  with  admiring  interest.  "Papa  had  a  big 
book  full  of  maps  when  he  was  alive,  and  he  showed 
me  the  countries  of  Europe  and  Asia,  and  his  home 
in  Switzerland  when  he  was  a  little  boy.  Have  you 
been  all  over  the  world?" 

"Oh,  yes,  two  or  three  times,"  he  said,  nonchal- 
ently,  as  if  going  round  the  world  was  the  most 
commonplace  matter  that  could  be  imagined.  "I've 
been  to  China  and  Japan,  all  the  Indies,  and  here  I 
am  laid  up  in  port  like  a  sick  pauper,  in  the  house 
of  a  stranger — an  object  of  charity." 

"I  shouldn't  think  your  own  aunt  would  be  much 
of  a  stranger  to  you,"  Marie  said,  astutely. 

The  boy  regarded  her  with  a  curious,  quizzical 
look. 


126  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Ye-s — of  course  she  is  my  aunt,  but  I'd  pretty 
nearly  forgotten  her,"  he  answered. 

"And — how  can  one's  own  sister  be  a  stranger  to 
one?"  she  further  asked. 

He  turned  his  head  away  for  a  moment,  then 
coming  back  to  his  other  posture  he  said : 

"Of  course  she's  my  sister,  but  she  was  such  a 
little  thing  when  I  went  away !  She  seemed  like  a 
baby  to  me." 

"This  girl,"  he  said  to  himself,  "is  evidently  a 
thinker." 

"I  should  suppose  so,"  she  went  on,  quietly — 
"because" — she  seemed  to  meditate  a  moment — "if 
that  was  the  first  time  you  met  the  other  day — why 
it  was  funny,  that's  all." 

"What  was  there  so  funny  about  it?"  he  asked, 
a  faint  color  coming  into  his  cheek. 

"If  you  had  been  my  brother,  I  should  have 
hugged  you  and  kissed  you,  and  cried,"  she  said 
with  rapid  utterance.  "Why,  I'd  give  all  the  world 
if  I  had  a  brother,"  and  her  soft  eyes  shone  with 
the  imagined  rapture  of  such  a  relationship. 

"Suppose  you  adopt  me/'  he  said,  in  a  dry,  if  not 
droll,  way.  "Adopted  brothers  are  sometimes  very 
good  substitutes  for  the  real  things." 


WHAT  CAME  OP  THE  FIRE  127 

"No,  I  don't  want  to  adopt  anybody.  I  want 
my  real  own/'  she  said.  '''I  always  wanted  real 
things.  That's  why  I  miss  my  mother  so,"  she 
went  on,  her  lips  quivering.  "My  father  bought  me 
a  toy  fiddle,  once.  He  thought  I  would  try  to 
play — but  no.  If  I  couldn't  have  one  like  his,  I 
didn't  want  it,  though  it's  the  dream  of  my  life  to 
be  able  to  play.  But  I'll  be  a  real  good  friend,  if 
you  will  let  me." 

"Oh,  yes,  I'll  let  you,  and  be  glad  of  it,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "And  now  tell  me  what  you  think  of 
Cousin  Selina !" 

He  threw  his  well  arm  over  his  head  and  fastened 
his  deep  blue  eyes  upon  her. 

"How  can  I  tell?"  she  began,  and  seemed  search- 
ing for  words.  "When  I  first  saw  her  I  was  in  the 
street  selling  papers.  I  was  the  only  girl  in  the 
business  and  the  boys  often  tormented  me,  but  I 
had  to  bear  with  it  to  earn  a  few  pennies  to  buy 
clothes.  It's  an  awful  life,"  she  went  on,  her  big 
brown  eyes  glowing.  "There's  nothing  in  the 
world  to  make  it  pleasant  but  to  look  in  the  shop 
windows,  and  wish  you  had  things.  Sometimes  I 
got  quite  happy  wishing  I  had  things." 

"Then  the  boys  didn't  treat  you  well." 


128  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"No — and  they  swore,"  she  said,  earnestly. 
"Swearing  is  as  bad  as  lying — don't  you  think  so? 
My  mother  said  that  anybody  who  swore  would 
lie — that  the  two  sins  were  twin  children.  You 
know  you  can't  have  any  faith  in  a  liar — can  you, 
now?" 

The  blood  rushed  into  the  lad's  pale  cheeks.  He 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  his  fingers  moved 
uneasily  over  the  white  counterpane. 

"Maybe  I'm  talking  too  much,"  said  Marie,  with 
solicitude.  "I  forget  that  you  are  sick ;"  and  she 
rose  to  go. 

"No,  no,  come  back — you  hadn't  finished  telling 
me  how  you  came  here,"  he  said. 

"Well,  that  dear  woman  saw  me  looking  in  a 
shop  window,  longing  for  things,"  Marie  went  on, 
looking  up  at  the  tall,  old-fashioned  clock  standing 
in  the  corner,  where  a  gilded  ship  rose  and  fell,  with 
the  roll  of  the  mimic  waves  in  the  foreground.  "She 
said  she  thought  she  should  like  to  have  me  with 
her,  and  she  would  call  at  the  little  German  store 
some  day  and  see  what  she  could  do  for  me.  But 
the  days  passed  on  and  on,  and  I  wearied  of  wait- 
ing, and,  remembering  her  sweet  face,  and  that  she 
had  given  me  her  name  and  number,  I  just  came 


WHAT  CAME  OF  THE  KIRE  12V 

here.  Oh  the  dear,  dear  woman.  I  should  like  to 
serve  her  all  my  life,  and  I  would  never  distress  or 
deceive  her — never." 

At  this  the  boy  threw  up  his  well  arm  and  utteied 
a  bitter,  piercing  cry. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   PROFESSOR'S   NEW   HOME. 

"Now  I've  talked  you  sick;  I  knew  I  should," 
said  Marie,  the  tears  filling  her  dark  eyes.  "What 
made  you  cry  out  so?  Ts  there  anything  I  can  do 
for  you?" 

"No — no — it's — I'm  tired,"  he  moaned,  hiding 
his  face  in  the  pillow.  "You  musn't  mind  a  fellow 
when  he's  tired.  Give  me  a  spoonful  of  the  medi- 
cine in  the  tumbler,  please,  and  wet  my  handker- 
chief with  a  little  cologne.  I  shall  soon  be  all  right, 
you  poor  little  frightened  mouse." 

She  tremblingly  followed  his  directions,  though 
that  dreadful  cry  still  rang  in  her  ears.  She  tried 
to  think  what  she  had  been  saying,  but  in  her  sud- 
den alarm  she  had  forgotten. 

The  door  opened  and  Cousin  Selina  came  in. 
She  went  toward  Ralph  and  divined  at  once  that 
something  unusual  had  happened. 

"My  dear  boy !"  she  exclaimed,  "what  have  you 

been  doing  to  bring  on  this  fever?" 
(130) 


She  went   toward   Ralph   and    divined  at   once   that   some- 
tiling  unusual  had  happened 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  NEW  HOME  131 

"It  was  my  fault,"  said  Marie,  chokingly,  "I 
talked  too  much." 

"No,  no,  the  child  shan't  blame  herself,"  said 
Ralph.  "I  kept  her  talking.  She  is  very  amusing," 
he  added,  trying  to  smile  into  the  sweet  face  look- 
ing down  with  almost  maternal  solicitude.  "You 
are  so  good  to  me,"  he  went  on  as  she  bathed  his 
forehead  and  turned  the  hot  pillow. 

"If  I  can't  be  good  to  my  own  dear  brother's 
child,  who  shall  I  be  good  to?"  asked  Cousin  Selina, 
tenderly. 

"I  think  you  would  be  good  to  the  meanest  and 
poorest  waif/'  he  said,  softly. 

She  smiled. 

"Yes,  I  love  to  help  people,"  she  said.  "I  wish 
I  could  help  all  who  suffer.  But  to  take  care  of 
you  means  a  precious  duty,  as  well  as  love  of  the 
work  itself.  There,  the  flush  has  gone  from  your 
face.  Do  you  feel  better?" 

"Yes,  much  better,"  he  said,  brokenly,  and  tak- 
ing her  hand  in  his  he  carried  it  to  his  lips. 

"Now  you  need  rest,  my  dear  boy,  rest  and  quiet. 
Our  patient  ought  to  sleep.  He  has  been  talking 
too  much." 

"It  was  I  did  the  talking,"  said  Marie,  in  a  low 


132  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

voice,  "but  he  told  me  not  to  stop,  and  seemed  to 
like  to  hear  me,  till  at  the  last  he  gave  such  a  cry — 
and  oh  how  he  frightened  me." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Nothing — it  was  only  a  cry  of  pain,  or  of  some- 
thing too  dreadful  to  be  borne." 

"I'm  afraid  he  is  worse  than  we  think  he  is,"  said 
Cousin  Selina.  "But  you  are  looking  pale.  Get 
your  work  and  come  in  and  sit  by  the  window, 
while  I  go  out  again.  I  don't  believe  the  boy  will 
care  to  talk  any  more  tonight.  And  when  I  come 
back,  I'll  go  up  and  see  if  the  old  gentleman  needs 
anything." 

"It's  so  comforting,"  said  Marie,  smiling. 

"What  is  so  comforting,  child?"  asked  Cousin 
Selina. 

"To  think  he  is  here,  up  stairs  with  all  his  music. 
I  counted  three  violin  cases." 

Cousin  Selina  laughed  at  the  girl's  enthusiasm. 

"Yes.  I  understand  now  why  he  didn't  come 
after  me,"  Marie  went  on.  "He  has  been  sick  for 
a  long  time.  Don't  you  think  him  a  very  fine  look- 
ing old  gentleman?" 

"Very,"  was  the  reply,  as  Cousin  Selina  tied  her 
bonnet  strings. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S   NEW  HOME  138 

"And  it's  so  good  to  know  that  two  of  my  best 
friends  are  under  the  same  roof  with  me!  Isn't  it 
singular?  I  wonder  if  he  would  remember  me?" 

Cousin  Selina  looked  into  the  ardent,  ingenuous 
face,  with  the  thought  that  no  one  could  forget  its 
sweetness  of  expression,  who  had  once  seen  it. 

Neither  had  the  old  music-master  forgotten,  but 
the  illness  from  which  he  had  suffered  attacked  him 
not  long  after  his  interview  with  her,  and  he  was 
soon  powerless-either  to  teach  or  to  leave  the  house. 
The  papers  contained  a  card  of  comment  upon  the 
matter.  It  said  that  L.  Immanuel  Castelin,  teacher 
of  the  violin,  notified  his  pupils  "that  he  was  ill  of 
fever  and  could  not  resume  his  lessons  until  further 
notice/'  and  as  he  had  gained  an  enviable  reputa- 
tion as  a  master  of  music,  and  his  studio  was 
elegantly  furnished,  his  classes  were  composed  of 
the  elite  of  the  city,  who  read  the  little  paragraph 
with  the  keenest  regret.  At  the  time  of  the  fire 
another  paragraph  was  published  to  the  effect  that 
the  building  where  the  professor  had  rooms  had 
been  much  damaged  by  fire,  but  that  the  master 
was  convalescing  and  had  saved  his  instruments 
and  much  valuable  music ;  that  he  had  taken  apart- 
ments at  the  old  stone  house  on  street  and 


]34  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

would  soon  be  ready  to  receive  his  classes,  at  which 
there  was  unfeigned  joy  among  the  music-loving 
circles  of  the  city ;  for  the  professor  was  always 
willing  to  play  on  great  occasions,  but  would  never 
receive  compensation  for  his  services.  Wherever 
there  was  a  brilliant  gathering,  especially  on  behalf 
of  charity,  there  the  tall  figure  and  the  classical  face, 
wonderfully  beautiful  for  its  seeming  age,  and  most 
impressive  on  account  of  the  shining  silver  of  the 
hair,  was  seen,  and  the  glorious  melody  of  his 
"strad,"  a  violin  for  which  he  had  paid  thousands 
of  dollars,  rang  out  in  the  utter  silence  that  always 
ensued  after  the  first  tone  sounded. 

On  the  morning  after  the  fire  when  his  valet,  and 
man  of  general  utility,  had  robed  and  installed  him 
in  the  great  easy  chair,  the  professor  looked  round 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

"Better  room  than  the  other,  Jock,"  he  said. 
"Not  in  quite  so  fashionable  a  locality,  but  the  room 
is  much  larger,  and  I  like  this  alcove." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jock,  who  was  busy  arranging  a 
tiny  alcohol  lamp,  and  emptying  a  paper  of  frag- 
rant tea  into  a  small  tin  cannister — "yes,  sir/'  he 
said  again,  looking  round  the  room — "lots  of  air 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  NEW  HOME  135 

to  breathe  here.  But,  as  you  say,  sir,  not  fashion- 
able." 

"What  do  I  care  for  that?"  was  the  response. 
"All  one  has  to  do  is  to  furnish.  You  say  the  piano 
is  not  badly  injured." 

"Not  at  all,  I  should  think,"  said  the  hunchback, 
who  was  an  Italian.  "The  cloth  cover  burned  off, 
and  the  top  of  the  instrument  is  badly  blistered,  but 
otherwise  it  is  all  right." 

"Have  it  sent  down  to  Sanders  at  once.  He  will 
restore  the  varnish.  And  you  are  sure  all  the  other 
instruments  were  saved?" 

"Every  one,  sir — there  are  four  violins — a  guitar, 
a  mandolin,  and  the  old  banjo.  I  made  sure  of 
them  at  the  first.  There  they  are,  sir,  all  under  that 
cloth,"  and  the  man  emptied  the  spoon  full  of  tea 
into  a  silver  kettle. 

"Good,"  said  the  master.  "Jock,  is  there  a  res- 
taurant near?" 

"Quite  near,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"Order  a  breakfast  for  two,  a  good  steak  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  I'm  famishing." 

"Are  you  quite  sure,  sir,"  said  the  man,  hesita- 
ting— 


186  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

"Sure  of  nothing,  except  that  I'm  as  hungry  as 
a  bear/'  said  the  professor. 

"But  the  doctor  said— 

"Hang  the  doctor,"  was  the  blunt  response. 
"He  has  kept  me  on  starvation  rations  long  enough. 
I'll  eat  the  breakfast  and  take  the  consequences. 
Why,  T  never  felt  better  in  my  life." 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  the  man,  and  went  out  to 
obey  his  master's  order.  Presently  he  came  back. 

"This  is  a  queer  place,"  he  said,  smiling  at  some 
recollection. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  professor. 

"Well,  I  was  waylaid  on  the  stairs,  twice." 

"By  highwaymen  ?"  asked  the  professor,  smiling. 

"Oh,  no.  The  first  time  it  was  by  a  very  pretty 
young  girl.  She  said  Miss — I  forget  her  name — 
had  sent  her  to  see  if  she  could  make  some  tea  and 
toast  for  you.  I  told  her  I  was  just  going  out  to 
order  breakfast.  The  second  one  was  that  queer 
little  woman  who  came  with  us  here,  last  night. 
She  had  on  a  black  silk  night-cap  and  her  hair  was 
in  curl-papers.  She  said  she  was  glad  to  welcome 
so  distinguished  a  man  to  the  halls  of  her  fore- 
fathers, and  enquired  if  you  was  comfortable.  I 
told  her  you  was  not  only  comfortable  but  very 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   NEW   HOME  137 

much  pleased.  She,  too,  asked  if  she  should  send 
you  up  any  breakfast,  as  you  must  feel  faint  after 
your  fright  and  exertion.  This  was  when  I  came 
back,  so  I  told  her  I  had  just  ordered  breakfast,  and 
the  man  was  coming  with  it.  Then  she  made  a  low 
bow  and  went  down  stairs.  They're  very  hos- 
pitable people  here,  sir." 

"So  I  should  think.  The  first  one  was  a  young 
girl,  you  said,  not  the  person  you  met  here  last 
night." 

"Oh,  no,  sir.  The  young  lady  was  very  pretty, 
and  seemed  to  speak  of  you  as  if  she  knew  you." 

"One  of  my  pupils,  very  likely,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor. 

"Not  that  I  have  ever  seen,  sir,"  was  the  man's 
response. 

"No? — well,  she  may  be,  sometime/'  said  the 
professor,  while  the  hunchback,  who  seemed  to 
serve  his  master  for  love,  wheeled  a  square  table  up 
to  the  side  of  the  convalescent. 

Presently  a  smoking  breakfast  was  brought  in, 
and  set  out  in  appetizing  profusion. 

"Let  me  see  if  there  is  every  thing  I  want,"  and 
the  professor  smilingly  cast  his  eyes  over  the  menu. 


138  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Coffee,  yes,  that  is  good.  I  haven't  tasted  coffee 
for  a  month." 

"You  were  ordered  not  to  drink  coffee,"  said 
the  hunchback,  apprehensively. 

"That's  all  very  well  for  yesterday,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, "but  today  1  am  my  own  master.  I  have 
been  kept  undei  like  a  baby,  and  now  I'm  going  to 
eat  like  a  man.  Cream — yes,  muffins,  yes — I  dare 
say  this  will  do.  You  can  come  back  again  in  an 
hour,"  he  said  to  the  man  who  was  waiting. 

"You  look  frightened  to  death/'  said  the  pro- 
fessor, laughing  heartily,  as  the  hunchback  shook 
his  head.  "Presently  you  will  see  me  dressing 
myself,  and  later  on  I  shall  take  a  walk.  There's 
nothing  like  a  fire  and  a  big  scare  to  tone  one  up — 
at  least  for  me.  Some  men  it  might  debilitate,  but 
it  has  roused  me  from  inertia,  which  I  see  now  my 
system  was  giving  way  under.  It  won't  do.  I  need 
action — and  now  let  me  see.  Suppose,  Jock,  you 
go  down  stairs  and  ask — well,  the  landlady — I  don't 
know  here  name,  to  come  up  here." 

Jock  did  as  he  was  ordered. 

Presently  Cousin  Selina  came  up,  looking,  in  her 
fresh  morning  gown  and  spotless  white  apron,  as 
sweet  and  delicate  as  ever  dainty  lady  could. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S   NEW  HOME  139 

"My  dear  madam/'  said  the  master,  "pray  take 
a  chair  while  I  talk  a  little  business  with  you." 

Cousin  Selina  sat  down. 

"In  the  first  place,  my  dear  lady,  have  you  any 
more  rooms?" 

"One  other  large  one  on  this  floor,"  was  the  ans- 
wer, for  she  came  prepared  to  listen  to  fault-finding 
or  disapprobation. 

"I  wish  to  take  another  room.     Is  it  furnished?" 

Cousin  Selina  signified  that  it  was  not. 

"Then  can  I  have  this  furniture  transferred  to 
that  room,  and  may  I  be  allowed  to  use  my  own 
judgment  in  furnishing  this  one?" 

His  manner  was  very  courtly.  Cousin  Selina  felt 
as  if  in  the  presence  of  a  prince. 

"Certainly,  you  can  do  as  you  please  about  it," 
she  said. 

"I  wished  to  say  that  I  am  particularly  well 
pleased  with  this  room,  and  that  I  should  like  to 
furnish  it  as  a  studio.  Fortunately  the  fire  did  not 
injure  some  of  my  things  in  the  corner  house,  but 
what  the  flames  spared  very  likely  the  water  ruined. 
My  piano  is  very  large,  a  grand,  and  will  suit  this 
room  admirably.  I  shall  buy  all  the  hangings,  the 
curtains  and  the  furniture  I  need.  And  if  I  have 


140  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

your  permission  I  will  transfer  my  signs  from  the 
other  house  to  this." 

"I  am  very  willing,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  inwardly 
congratulating  herself  on  her  good  fortune  in  secur- 
ing such  a  lodger. 

"Of  course  you  can  name  your  own  price  for  the 
rooms.  There  will  be  a  good  deal  of  company, 
more  music  than  you  may  like,  and  some  incon- 
veniences to  yourself,  but  I  will  try  to  make  as  little 
trouble  as  possible." 

"I  am  not  at  all  fearful,  sir,"  said  Cousin  Selina. 
"The  rooms  are  always  attended  to  by  people  out- 
side, whom  I  can  depend  on,  who  come  once  a  day, 
at  any  hour  you  may  desire." 

"Well,  you  see  I  have  a  very  good  man,"  said 
the  professor,  "who  knows  just  exactly  how  I  like 
things  to  be  done.  He  will  attend  to  all  the  little 
details,  for  he  has  been  with  me  for  years — so  I  do 
not  need  any  extra  service,  thanks." 

"If  you  should,  do  not  hesitate  to  call  on  me.  I 
have  a  very  good  girl,  her  name  is  Marie,  and  she 
will  be  pleased  to  wait  upon  you." 

"Sweetest  Marie,"  he  murmured,  when  Cousin 
Selina  had  left.  "Strange  how  the  name  haunts 
me !  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  find  that  child.  I  must 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  NEW  HOME  141 

go  at  once,  now  that  I  am  better,  and  see  how  it 
fares  with  her.  Dear  little  girl,  I  know  she  is 
a  genius.  Her  manner  betokened  it,  and  then," 
his  face  worked,  "her  father  played."  How  little  he 
knew  as  he  soliloquized,  that  the  girl  was  under  the 
same  roof  with  himself,  and  that  though  circum- 
stances favored  her  by  her  being  placed  in  the  care 
of  one  of  the  best  of  women,  still  her  situation  was 
more  or  less  menial. 

Gradually,  as  he  sat  there  his  face  grew  sorrow- 
ful. Some  brooding  thought  seemed  to  have  taken 
possession  of  him.  His  eyes  were  very  wistful,  till, 
rising,  he  went  towards  the  instruments  covered 
with  a  large  oil  cloth  that  shone  like  black  satin. 
Selecting  the  one  he  had  purchased  but  recently, 
he  moved  wearily  back  to  his  chair  and  sank  down 
like  one  exhausted. 

"No  going  out  for  a  walk  for  me  today,"  he 
muttered.  "Jock  knew  my  strength  better  than  I 
do  myself." 

Presently  he  took  the  violin  from  its  leathern  bag 
and  held  it  lovingly  against  his  cheek. 

"It  brings  back  to  me  the  old  happy  days,"  he 
murmured.  "Ah,  if  only  I  were  now  as  I  was  then. 

But  the  years  and  the  evil  have  been  too  much  for 
10 


142  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

me.  I  am  not  happy.  I  never  shall  be  happy — 
never,  never  again.  Even  the  gold,  the  precious 
money  has  come  too  late.  All  the  best  things  have 
been  taken  from  me.  Still — I  have  recovered  the 
old  violin,  which  I  sold  to  keep  my  dear  ones  from 
starvation.  May  not  other  things  come  back?  If 
I  could  find  that  child,  now,  I  would  adopt  her.  I 
could  feel  some  pleasure  in  educating  her,  but  per- 
haps I  never  shall  see  her  again.  I  shall  no  longer 
have  to  struggle  between  my  position  and  my 
desires.  I  have  gained  all  that  a  man  can  look  for 
in  this  world — all  but  one  thing.  One  dark  shadow 
oppresses  me,  and  will  till  I  go  to  my  grave.  One 
deed  makes  me  a  coward,  even  when  I  have  attained 
my  dearest  wishes.  Oh,  is  that  you,  Jock?" 

He  assumed  his  lightest  manner  when  the  hunch- 
back came  in.  The  anguish  left  his  face  and  in  its 
stead  came  a  rare  smile.  "Well,  how  did  you  suc- 
ceed?" he  asked. 

"All  right,"  was  the  cheerful  answer.  "The 
upholsterers  will  be  here  this  afternoon  with  their 
samples.  The  piano  is  sent  to  Sanders,  who  says 
it  is  not  much  hurt  and  he  will  send  it  up  next  week. 
I  found  the  carpets  spoiled ;  they  may  sell,  though, 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   NEW  HOME  148 

tor  something,  and  what  furniture  was  saved  will  be 
sent  over  here." 

"And  did  you  go  to  Chapel  street?"  asked  the 
master,  anxiously. 

"Yes,  sir,  but  there  was  no  one  at  home  who 
could  give  me  any  information.  They  said  I  might 
call  again  tomorrow,  and  the  shop-keeper  might 
be  in — so  I  came  away." 

"I  don't  believe  she  is  there,"  the  professor  said, 
wearily. 


CHAPTER  XL 

FANNY   MAKES   HER  COUSIN'S   ACQUAINTANCE. 

Anne's  aunts  and  cousin  were  quite  ready  for 
their  trip  to  Europe.  Now,  that  her  mind  was  at 
rest  as  to  her  future,  Anne  could  duly  admire  the 
dainty  wardrobe  her  cousin  spread  out  for  her 
approval. 

"Hats  and  bonnets  and  capes,  capes  and  bonnets 
and  hats,"  she  exclaimed,  as  Fanny  held  this  and 
that  pretty  garment  for  her  inspection. 

"To  say  nothing  about  the  dresses;''  said  Fanny, 
who  was  petite,  with  fair  hair  and  light  blue  eyes, 
and  already  as  much  devoted  to  fashion  as  any 
society  lady  of  maturer  years.  "Here's  an  organdie 
that  cost  mamma,  I  don't  dare  to  say  how  much, 
because  I  would  have  real  lace.  And  here's  a  blue 
satin  and  a  white  silk  and  a  lovely  tulle,  with  pink 
roses.  Mamma  only  bought  a  few,  because  I  shall 
buy  some  dresses  in  London,  and  some  in  Paris/' 

(144) 


FANNY   MAKES   HER   COUSIN'S  ACQUAINTANCE          145 

"A  few,"  exclaimed  Anne,  bewilderedly,  "if 
those  are  a  few  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  call  a 
full  wardrobe." 

"Oh  the  fashions  may  be  different  over  there; 
only  I  want  to  show  them  how  an  American  girl 
dresses,"  said  Fanny,  tossing  her  vain  little  head. 
"I've  wanted  to  go  abroad  all  my  life  and  so  crow 
over  the  other  girls.  I  should  think  you  would." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  crow."  said  Anne,  laugh- 
ing. "And,  besides,  I  don't  like  the  sea." 

"You  ought  to,  you've  got  a  brother  who  is  a 
sailor,"  said  Fanny,  and  she  said  it  in  just  that  way 
that  conveys  to  the  hearer  the  intimation  of  a  sneer. 

"If  he  is  a  sailor,  he's  as  fair  and  handsome  as 
any  boy  you  ever  saw,"  Anne  retorted,  with  spirit, 
"and  as  much  of  a  gentleman,  too.  If  you  would 
only  call  and  see  him,  you'd  like  him." 

"I  don't  want  to,"  said  Fanny,  "and  mamma 
doesn't  want  me  to.  You  needen't  look  so  furious, 
but  indeed  I  haven't  the  time,  what  with  dancing 
attendance  on  dress-makers  and  milliners  and  get- 
ting things  in  shape  to  go  away.  If  I  were  you  I'd 
get  him  out  of  the  notion  of  going  to  sea.  Let  him 
find  something  to  do  ashore,  something  that  won't 
disgrace  his  relations." 


146  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

Anne  was  very  angry,  but  where  was  the  wisdom 
of  pouring  out  her  wrath  on  one  who  had  been 
trained  to  regard  only  the  varnish  of  social  verities, 
and  who,  little  peacock  that  she  was,  saw  no  good 
outside  of  her  own  circle?  So  she  only  laughed  as 
she  said  : 

"I  prophesy  that  you  will  be  very  proud  of  him 
sometime  when  he  is  the  captain  of  a  splendid 
American  liner.  He  can't  have  a  much  higher 
honor  than  that." 

"Well,  you  do  hope  great  things  for  him,"  said 
Fanny,  a  little  startled.  Someway  it  had  never 
occurred  to  her  that  there  could  be  any  possible 
connection  between  the  sailor  and  the  commander. 

"Many  a  cabin  boy  has  worked  his  way  up  to 
that,"  said  Anne,  "and  Ralph  is  no  common  boy. 
You  would  say  so  if  you  could  see  him.  But  I 
won't  beg  you  to  come,  though  I  am  going  over 
to  Cousin  Selina's  now." 

"I  suppose  I  might  spare  a  few  moments,"  said 
Fanny,  piqued  by  Anne's  manner,  "though,  as  I  am 
going  away  so  soon,  it  really  seems  unnecessary." 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  Anne  responded. 

"If  you'll  wait  till  I  get  my  hat  I'll  go  with  you," 


FANNY    MAKES    HER    COUSIN'S   ACQUAINTANCE          147 

said  Fanny,  with  more  humility  in  her  manner, 
"though  I  hate  that  part  of  the  city." 

"All  right,"  said  Anne,  and  soon  they  stood 
before  the  door  of  the  rough  cast  house. 

"Why,  it's  really  quite  imposing,"  said  Fanny, 
eying  the  large  building.  "What  are  they  doing 
there?"  Some  men  were  carrying  in  furniture. 

"Professor  Castelin's  man  is  putting  up  a  sign. 
The  professor  has  just  taken  a  room  here,"  said 
Anne. 

"Why,  I  take  lessons  of  him,"  exclaimed  Fanny. 
"He  is  splendid!  Some  say  a  great  man,  perhaps 
a  prince  in  disguise.  Was  he  over  at  the  corner 
before?" 

"Yes,  sometimes  turning  a  corner  makes  a  big 
difference,"  said  Anne.  "You  remember  I  told 
you  about  Marie.  Perhaps  you  will  see  her." 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  about  seeing  her;  pray  don't 
introduce  me,"  was  the  response.  "A  cousin  is  a 
cousin — that's  another  thing.  Of  course  one  has 
to  acknowledge  one's  own." 

"Yes,  sometimes,"  said  Anne,  dryly. 

Fanny  had  seen  very  little  of  Cousin  Selina — only 
once  a  year  at  her  aunt's  house  at  lunch,  and  at  a 


148  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

iew  receptions,  so  that  she  felt  almost  like  a 
stranger  in  her  presence. 

"There's  a  certain  old  time  grandeur  about  this 
house/'  Fanny  said,  as  they  were  going  up  the 
stairs.  "Perhaps  that's  why  the  professor  has  taken 
rooms  here." 

"Oh,  no/'  said  Anne.  "He  was  brought  here 
from  the  other  house  at  the  time  of  the  fire,  and  he 
liked  the  rooms  upstairs  so  much  better  than  those 
he  had  before,  that  he  took  them  at  once." 

"But  then  it's  not  fashionable,"  said  Fanny, 
"though  he  will  give  them  tone,  if  anybody  can." 

As  the  two  girls  entered  the  "room  beautiful,"  a 
wave  of  ruddy  light  swept  it  from  end  to  end,  show- 
ing its  fine  proportions,  also  the  exquisite  neatness 
and  purity  of  the  surroundings.  Fanny  felt  her 
nerves  tingle  as  she  looked  toward  the  alcove  where 
Ralph  lay  as  motionless  as  a  figure  of  white  marble. 

"Ralph,  I  have  brought  your  Cousin  Fanny  to 
see  you,"  said  Anne,  leading  the  girl  toward  the 
bed. 

Fanny  met  him  with  extended  hand,  for  she  was 
impressed  in  spite  of  herself  with  the  faultless  feat- 
ures, the  quiet  mein  and  the  air  of  refinement  with 
which  the  lad  met  her.  He  was  very  weak  and 


FANNY    MAKES   HER   COUSIN'S  ACQUAINTANCE          149 

unable  to  talk,  so  the  girls  took  their  leave  as 
Cousin  Selina  came  in,  greeting  Fanny  cordially 
yet  with  a  dignity  that  was  not  lost  upon  the  girl 
who  lived  for  society.  Marie  did  not  make  her 
appearance  and  Anne  forbore  to  seek  her,  conscious 
that  Fanny  regarded  her  as  only  a  menial. 

"Well,  what  did  you  think  of  my  brother?"  Anne 
asked,  when  they  were  on  their  way  home. 

"I  can't  imagine  that  he  has  ever  been  a  sailor," 
said  Fanny. 

"Let  me  tell  you  that  there  are  some  of  the 
noblest  men  in  the  world,  who  follow  the  sea,"  was 
Anne's  spirited  response.  "Think  what  knowledge 
they  must  acquire — what  wonderful  experiences 
they  are  a  part  of!  Why,  I  would  rather  be  a 
sailor,  learning  something  of  every  place  in  the 
known  world,  than  a  mere  hanger-on  of  society. 
Think  how  much  more  of  men  they  must  be — and 
so  big  hearted !" 

"For  all  that  I  don't  like  them/'  said  Fanny, 
shaking  her  empty  little  head. 

"Well,  I  like  my  brother,  and  anyone  who 
doesn't  like  him  needn't  like  me,"  said  Anne. 

"I  wasn't  saying  a  word  against  Cousin  Ralph," 
said  Fanny,  sweetly,  and  Anne  was  appeased — 


1!\0  THE   YELLOW    VIOLIN 

though  her    aunt,    when    she    spoke  of  her  sailor 
cousin,  was  very  indignant. 

"I  don't  care  about  your  knowing  such  persons," 
she  said,  "even  if  they  are  your  relatives.  Sailors 
are  a  very  irregular  and  disagreeable  sort  of  men, 
fit  only  for  the  forecastle,  and  never  in  their  ele- 
ment save  on  the  ocean.  For  my  part/'  she  went 
on,  "I'm  sorry  he  came  back,  and  I  only  hope  he 
will  soon  be  well  enough  to  go  to  sea  again.  Sail- 
ors are  entirely  out  of  place  on  shore." 

"Anne  says  she  thinks  he  will  never  go  to  sea 
again,"  said  Fanny. 

"Who  is  going  to  take  care  of  him?"  her  aunt 
asked,  almost  angrily.  "He  certainly  can't  stay 
with  Selina." 

"Anne  thinks  he  will  take  care  of  himself,  and 
says  she  will  keep  house  for  him  if  he  does,"  Fanny 
responded. 

"Anne  is  just  as  weak  as  Selina,"  said  her  aunt, 
decidedly.  "He  is  only  a  sailor,  and  never  will  be 
good  for  anything  else."  There  was  scorn  in  her 
voice.  "Sailors  smoke  pipes  and  love  to  fight. 
How  Selina,  with  her  nice  perceptions  and  belong- 
ings, could  bring  herself  to  take  him  into  the  house, 


FANNY    MAKES    HER    COUSIN'S   ACQUAINTANCE  151 

when  there  are  so  many  good  hospitals,  I  don't 
see.  She  to  nurse  a  horrid  sailor!" 

"But  that  horrid  sailor  is  my  cousin,  and  your 
nephew,"  said  Fanny,  almost  unconsciously  becom- 
ing his  defender,"  and  if  his  relations  won't  help 
him,  who  will  ?  Anne  declares  he  is  very  quiet  and 
gentlemanly,  and- he  is,  for  I  went  there  with  Cousin 
Anne,  and  saw  him,  myself." 

"The  idea  of  you  going  there!"  said  Aunt 
Martha,  looking  her  indignation. 

"It's  really  a  splendid  old  house,  Aunt  Martha. 
You  ought  to  see  it,"  said  Fanny. 

"No,  thank  you,"  was  the  quick  answer.  "I  was 
always  against  Selina's  taking  that  house  and  set- 
ting up  for  a  landlady.  She  could  have  lived  very 
respectably  on  her  small  income  if  she  had  taken  a 
room  in  some  better  location,  and  not  disgraced 
her  relations,  who  are  all  able  to  help  her." 

"But  she  didn't  want  help,  she  wanted  independ- 
ence," said  Fanny,  who  liked  nothing  better  than 
to  get  Aunt  Martha  into  an  argument.  "I'm  not 
sure  but  she  did  right,  too.  I  couldn't  do  it 
because  I  have  been  brought  up  differently.  And 
who  do  you  think  has  taken  rooms  there?" 

Her  aunt  looked  up,  curiosity  in  her  glance. 


152  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  she  said. 

"My  teacher,  Professor  Castelin,  who  lived  in 
the  house  on  Blank  Square,  so  you  see  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  go  there,  if  I  take  lessons  when  I  come 
back." 

"That  doesn't  show  very  good  taste.  He  ought 
to  think  of  his  pupils/'  said  Aunt  Martha. 

"It  doesn't  matter  to  him.  He  only  teaches  for 
the  love  of  it.  They  say  he  is  rich,  anyway.  But 
indeed,  Aunt  Martha,  you  ought  to  see  what  a  fine 
old  house  it  is,  and  only  half  a  square  from  the  fash- 
ionable thoroughfare.  I  think  Cousin  Selina  was 
a  very  shrewd  woman.  And  now  the  professor 
will  make  her  house  fashionable.  Everybody 
thinks  he  is  some  nobleman  in  disguise.  I'm  sure 
he  looks  it.  1  shouldn't  mind  living  with  Cousin 
Selina  myself.  I  had  no  idea  she  was  so  sweet  and 
courteous,  and,  really,  there  is  a  sort  of  style  about 
her  that  attracts  one.  I  believe  after  we  come 
back  I'll  cultivate  her,  if  only  to  see  her  smile,  she 
is  so  pretty." 

Aunt  Martha  sniffed.  She  was  more  like  her 
sister  Hannah — sallow,  stern  and  straight  of  feat- 
ure— pride  dominant  in  her  manner  and  expression. 
She  had  always  looked  upon  Cousin  Selina  as 


FANNY   MAKES   HER   COUSIN'S  ACQUAINTANCE          153 

flighty  and  unconventional,  a  woman  who  wore  her 
clothes  two  seasons  if  they  suited  her,  and  was  not 
afraid  to  be  dubbed  unfashionable.  In  her  secret 
heart  she  could  not  but  feel  ashamed  that  the 
onerous  task  of  caring  for  a  sick  relative  had  been 
forced  upon  her  sister  Selina,  by  her  richer  rela- 
tions. But  then,  as  they  all  said,  she  was  only  their 
half  sister.  In  her  inmost  heart,  also,  she  felt  a 
little  ashamed  of  her  sister  Hannah,  who  was  rich 
enough  to  be  a  special  providence  to  the  whole 
family,  and  had  yet  given  only  the  paltry  sum  of 
fifty  dollars  toward  the  support  of  her  own  nephew, 
and  he  burdened  with  sickness. 

"Well,  I've  got  to  go,"  said  Fanny,  forgetting 
everything  in  the  absorbing  gratification  of  shop- 
ping. "I've  lots  of  things  to  match  in  ribbons,  and 
matching  is  such  a  job!  And  then  I  must  see  the 
dressmaker  about  my  gray  traveling  dress.  Navy 
blue  has  gone  out,  you  know,  though  I  like  it 
better,"  and  off  she  went,  as  Anne  came  in. 

"Cousin  Selina  is  all  ready  for  me,"  said  the  girl, 
slowly  laying  aside  her  hat  and  cape.  "She  says  I 
needn't  wait  a  day,  so  that  unless  you  want  my 
help,  I  might  as  well  go  there  tomorrow." 


154  THE    YELLOW    VIOLIN 

"Seems  to  me  you're  in  a  great  hurry,"  was  her 
aunt's  comment. 

"Why,  no,"  the  girl  answered,  surprised.  "I 
thought  you  were  all  ready  to  start  and  you  do  go 
on  Wednesday.  And  now  Cousin  Selina  has  let 
her  rooms,  she  needs  me  to  take  care  of  Ralph. 
Did  Fanny  tell  you  what  a  nice  boy  he  is?"  she 
asked  eagerly. 

"No/'  was  the  curt  answer. 

"Didn't  she  even  tell  you  she  had  seen  him?" 

"Oh,  yes,  she  said  she  had  been  down  to  Selina's 
and  mentioned  that  she  had  seen  him." 

"And  never  said  how  handsome  he  was?"  There 
was  disappointment  in  her  voice. 

"Handsome  is  that  handsome  does/'  said  Aunt 
Martha,  coldly.  "I  hope  he  is  better." 

"Not  so  well  today,"  her  niece  replied — "that's 
why  I  want  to  go  there  to  help  Cousin  Selina.  She 
has  her  hands  full  now." 

"I  thought  she  had  somebody  with  her,"  was 
her  aunt's  answer. 

"Oh,  yes,  but  only  a  young  girl,  though  she 
works  splendidly,  but  I  was  thinking  of  Ralph." 

"Well,  you  can  go  any  time  you  like,"  said  her 
aunt.  "Mercy  knows  you  are  no  good  here,  while 


FANNY   MAKES   HER    COUSIN'S  ACQUAINTANCE          155 

your  heart  is  over  there.  I  do  think  it  was  such  a 
strange  providence  for  that  boy  to  turn  up  when 
we  all  thought  he  was  dead." 

"A  strange  providence!  to  give  my  own  brother 
back  to  me !"  Anne  exclaimed  with  rising  indigna- 
tion. 

"Yes,  a  sick  and  helpless  burden,"  said  her  aunt. 

Anne  had  no  words,  now,  and  she  feared  that 
if  she  spoke  she  might  be  disrespectful,  so  she 
swallowed  her  anger,  and  after  a  moment,  saying : 

"Well,  thank  God,  I  can  work  for  him,"  she 
left  the  room  to  pack  her  trunk.  She  could  only 
fly  for  relief  to  Cousin  Selina,  and  brightly  in  the 
background  of  her  thoughts  came  the  delicate  face, 
the  silver  hair,  the  eyes  that  always  smiled  approval, 
the  low,  tender  voice  and  ready  sympathy  that 
made  her  feel  that  she  was  welcome. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MARIE'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PROFESSOR. 

Marie,  who  for  the  time  had  forgotten  every 
trouble  in  the  world  and  only  lived  for  her  new 
found  friends,  had  made  all  arrangements  possible 
for  the  expected  coming  of  Anne.  There  were 
extra  touches  here  and  there  in  the  way  of  orna- 
mentation. The  two  little  white  beds  stood  in 
different  corners.  The  one  large  closet,  let  into 
the  wall  by  the  stair-case — it  was  a  little  room  by 
itself — was  divided  for  space  for  both  girls.  The 
bureau  drawers  had  received  the  same  division,  and 
all  things  were  ready.  Marie  had  no  trunk,  but  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed  was  a  space  sufficient  for  Anne's 
and  the  two  rocking  chairs  were  set  in  their  respect- 
ive places.  Aside  from  these,  everything  was 
arranged  with  a  view  to  order  and  proprietorship. 

The  sun  shone  in  the  early  morning  through  two 
windows  neatly  curtained  and  all  the  arrangements 
seemed  perfect,  even  to  the  most  critical  eye. 

(156) 


MARIE'S  INTERVIEW  WITH   THE   PROFESSOR  157 

Marie  had  improved  both  in  health  and  deport- 
ment by  her  contact  with  refined  natures  and  a  new 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things.  Striving  to  copy  the 
delicacy  and  beauty  of  Cousin  Selina's  character, 
she  had  gained  in  repose  of  manner,  and  a  chival- 
rous self-respect.  Instead  of  being  ashamed  of  her 
past,  she  made  it  a  help,  not  a  hindrance.  Her 
nature  was  reverent  and  her  intuitions  singularly 
pure  and  fervid.  She  had  a  feeling  towards  her 
benefactor  that  was  little  short  of  worship,  and 
there  was  no  duty  she  might  have  exacted  that 
Marie  would  not  have  fulfilled  to  the  letter.  She 
was  growing  very  beautiful,,  but  as  she  had  never 
been  pampered  with  praise  she  had  no  vanity.  Her 
teachers  in  the  school  of  adversity  had  been  very 
faithful  with  her.  They  had  led  her  to  look  for- 
ward, always,  to  better  things. 

"By  and  by,"  was  her  motto,  and  her  Sw-iss inheri- 
tance \vas  a  longing  for  '"better  things."  Music 
was  her  one  great  passion.  It  had  been  nourish- 
ment and  delight  to  her  nature  from  her  infancy. 
Cousin  Selina's  performance  on  the  old  guitar,  an 
instrument  yellowed  and  mellowed  by  time,  had 
seemed  marvellous  to  her,  and  her  fingers  had 

itched  more  than  once  to  touch  the  strings  which 
11 


158  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

it  would  have  been  ecstacy  to  understand.  But  of 
all  instruments  the  violin  stood  foremost.  She  had 
been  soothed  by  its  strains  from  the  hour  of  her 
birth.  Her  father  at  one  time,  before  his  marriage, 
had  been  almost  persuaded  to  make  of  its  study  a 
life  work,  but  circumstances  seemed  to  decide 
otherwise,  so  he  simply  played  for  his  own  pleasure. 
The  violin  was  then  to  her,  as  it  is  to  man}-,  the  king 
of  instruments,  and  she  had  always  manifested  a 
wish  to  learn  how  to  handle  the  bow.  But  this 
passion  seemed  so  far  to  be  denied  her.  No 
wonder  her  heart  had  beat  with  a  feeling  of  rapture 
at  the  old  master's  words,  "I  have  some  pupils  who 
pay  me  nothing  for  their  tuition." 

No  wonder  that  her  pulses  leaped  and  her  imagi- 
nation took  fire  at  the  hope  these  wrords  had 
kindled.  She  had  fed  upon  them  for  months,  and 
now  the  attainment  of  her  wishes  might  be  near. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  while  the  master  had  been 
under  the  same  roof  with  her  for  many  weeks  she 
had  never  yet  met  him.  Her  native  modesty 
restrained  her  from  forcing  herself  upon  his  notice, 
and  although  Cousin  Selina  had  sent  her  up  stairs 
several  times,  with  messages,  she  had  never  ven- 
tured beyond  the  door.  There  she  had  been 


MARIE'S   INTERVIEW  WITH  THE   PROFESSOR  159 

sometimes  rewarded  by  listening  to  sweet  strains 
that  to  her  vivid  imagination  seemed  like  the 
heavenly  voice  of  an  angel,  or  some  wondrous 
chords  on  the  piano,  which  held  her  breathless,  and 
sent  her  down  stairs  thrilled  with  a  desire  to  do 
some  wonderful  thing,  and  the  impression  that 
sometime  it  would  be  done. 

Now  she  was  all  ready  for  Anne  to  come  and 
take  possession  of  her  allotment  of  room,  and  she 
looked  round  with  a  childish  pride  on  her  surround- 
ings, sacred  to  friendship  and  to  study  seemed 
written  on  everything.  There  in  an  alcove,  for 
which  she  had  herself  constructed  the  shelves,  stood 
the  books  from  which  she  was  eager  to  receive 
instruction.  On  certain  Wednesdays  and  Satur- 
days, Anne  intended  to  give  her  lessons.  The 
copy  books,  the  pen,  the  ink,  were  all  in  their 
appropriate  places,  and  a  table  stood  near  the  small 
iire  place,  ready  for  work.  The  counterpanes  of 
the  small  beds  were  as  white  as  snow ;  the  windows 
held  that  polish  that  only  constant  care  can  give 
to  glass;  the  carpet  was  thoroughly  swept,  and  it 
only  wanted  Anne's  presence  to  complete  the  pic- 
ture. 


160  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

While  she  was  standing  there  looking  about 
admiringly,  Cousin  Selina  appeared  at  the  door. 

"My  dear,  how  nice  you  look/'  she  said,  for  she 
never  withheld  the  little  praise  that  Marie's  heart 
craved.  "I  wish  you  to  go  up  stairs  for  me,  to  the 
professor.  Something  that  was  ordered  for  his 
room  has  come,  and  I  don't  think  his  man  is  in." 

"Yes,  indeed/'  said  Marie,  eagerly,  and  taking 
the  paper  parcel  she  ran  up  stairs,  thinking  that 
perhaps  Cousin  Selina  was  mistaken  and  that  Jock 
would  come  to  the  door,  as  he  had  generally  done, 
or  that  may  be  one  of  the  pupils  might  lie  there. 
She  knocked  and  did  not  hear  the  first  "come  in," 
whereupon  the  master  roared,  for  he  had  a  power- 
ful voice,  so  that.  Marie's  heart  failed  her.  She 
opened  the  door,  however.  The  master's  back  was 
toward  her.  Me  had  just  been  playing  some  diffi- 
cult chords.  Marie  went  towards  the  table, 
intending  to  put  the  parcel  down  and  then  retire, 
but  he  happened  to  turn  his  head.  With  a  light  in 
his  face  that  she  could  not  understand,  he  sprang 
from  the  music  stool,  and  the  long  drawn  "O-h" 
that  accompanied  the  movement  told  that  he  was 
both  surprised  and  delighted. 

"So  !  it  is  you/'  he  said,  coming  forward,  rubbing 


MARIE'S   INTERVIEW  WITH   THE    PROFESSOR  161 

his  hands — "so  it  is  indeed  my  little  girl  of  the 
streets !  Welcome,  my  child,  welcome !  welcome !" 
and  he  took  her  face  in  his  hands,  and  looked 
eagerly  into  her  eyes.  "I  thought  I  had  lost  the 
little  maid.  I  feared  I  should  never  see  her  again," 
he  said,  every  word  pointed  with  pleasure.  "And 
you  know,  perhaps  that  .1  was  sick — oh,  very,  very 
ill,  so  that  once  or  twice  those  wise  men  they  call 
doctors  gave  me  up  to  die.  But  for  that,  my  dear, 
I  should  have  sought  you  out  at  once.  And  so 
you  are  the  Marie  that  excellent  woman  down  stairs 
has  often  spoken  of!  Why  did  I  not  know  it?" 

Marie,  timid  and  blushing,  listened  to  all  this  as 
one  in  a  dream.  How  delightful  it  was  to  her  to 
be  recognized  by  this  man,  to  whom  she  looked  up 
as  to  a  superior  being!  His  remarkable  person- 
ality, acknowledged  by  all  who  came  within  the 
charm  of  his  presence,  did  not  appeal  so  forcibly 
to  her  as  his  apparent  interest  in  her,  and  his  candid 
admission  of  the  fact  by  word  and  manner.  Could 
he  possibly  know  that,  though  Cousin  Selina 
trusted  her  and  treated  her  as  one  of  the  family,  she 
was  still  not  far  removed  from  a  servant?  What 
was  there  in  her  to  merit  his  consideration?  Pos- 
sibly she  reminded  him  of  his  own  little  daughter 


162  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

who  had  left  him  so  many  years  ago.  Or  he  had 
seen  indications  of  musical  talent. 

"Well,  how  do  you  feel  about  music,  at  the 
present  time?"  he  asked,  lingering  at  the  table. 
"Do  you  still  wish  to  study  the  violin  ?" 

"Oh,  sir,  I  am  not  able,"  said  Marie,  a  keen  dis- 
appointment in  her  voice;  "if  I  were  I  think  there 
is  nothing  else  in  the  world  I  should  like  so  well." 

"How  came  you  to  leave  the  other  place?"  he 
asked,  ignoring  her  answer,  and  drawing  a  chair 
to  the  table,  for  he  was  still  far  from  strong. 

She  told  him. 

"Yes,  I  see,"  he  said,  with  a  far-away  look  over 
her  head.  "I  am  very  glad  you  were  led  to  come 
here.  That's  a  grand  little  woman  down  stairs — 
her  aim  is  to  make  everybody  happy.  She  is  pre- 
cisely the  person  I  would  have  chosen  to  look  after 
you.  By  the  way,  I  bought  that  violin." 

"The  one  I  was  looking  at  that  morning?"  Marie 
asked,  startled  into  positive  delight,  for  she  had 
never  forgotten  that  eventful  hour  when  she  longed 
for  the  thing  so  far  beyond  her  reach. 

"That  identical  instrument.  I  fancied  I  had 
seen  it  before.  So  I  had.  It  once  belonged  to  me. 
It  was  like  the  face  of  a  dear  old  friend." 


MARIE'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE   PROFESSOR  163 

"Oh,  how  glad  you  must  have  been !"  Marie  said, 
looking  up,  smiling. 

"Indeed  I  was.  Although  I  have  a  genuine 
Strad,  worth  thousands  of  dollars,  I  prize  that  other 
far  beyond  it,  because  it  brings  back  old  memories. 
I  suppose  you  like  to  remember,  when  you  look 
back." 

Marie's  face  assumed  seriousness. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  reluctance,  "some 
things.  I  never  can  forget  my  mother,  but" — her 
lips  quivered — "she  suffered,  and  had  to  work  so 
hard." 

"Poor  little  woman !"  said  the  professor,  and 
there  was  so  much  genuine  sorrow  conveyed  by 
the  tones  of  his  voice,  that  Marie  gave  him  all  her 
heart  at  once.  Gradually  he  led  her  to  talk  of  the 
past,  to  paint,  in  her  childish  way,  pictures  of  the 
strange  life  she  had  always  led — and  his  face 
changed  from  admiration  to  sadness  and  from 
that  to'  surprise,  as  she  graphically  unfolded  in 
pathetic  language,  the  panorama  of  the  old  years. 

"But  perhaps  I  am  staying  too  late/'  she  said, 
rising — "I  am  taking  up  your  time." 

"My  time  is  my  own  for  today,"  he  said,  "and  I 
am  very  glad  you  came  up — for  now  I  know  where 


164  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

you  are,  and  I  shall  make  it  my  business  to  look 
after  you  a  little — I  mean,  of  course,  in  a  musical 
way.  My  little  girl  would  have  been  near  your 
age;  yes,  she  would  even  have  looked  like  you," 
and  he  scanned  her  face  eagerly — it  seemed  almost 
as  if  he  restrained  himself  from  taking  her  at  once 
to  his  heart  and  giving  her  a  fatherly  embrace. 
Then  he  went  across  the  room  and  returned  with 
the  violin  she  had  seen  in  the  shop  window  on  that 
memorable  day.  She  smiled  appreciative  delight 
as  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  instrument. 

"How  I  do  love  it !"  she  said. 

"Now  let  me  see  you  hold  it,"  and  he  placed  it 
in  her  hands. 

In  a  sort  of  intuitive  fashion  she  placed  the 
instrument  against  her  shoulder  and  he  nodded 
approvingly. 

"You  have  it,"  he  said — "it  ts  an  inborn  gift, 
inherited  from  your  father."  Then  he  held  out  the 
bow. 

"Oh,  but  I  couldn't  use  that,"  she  said,  half 
frightened.  He  looked  at  her  almost  sternly,  and 
spoke  but  one  word, 

"Try!" 

She  did  try.     The  wrist  came  easily  into  place, 


MARIE'S    INTERVIEW   WITH   THE    PROFESSOR  165 

and  the  clear  notes  rang  out  discordant,  but  rich 
and  vibrant. 

"You  will  do/''  he  said,  his  face  suffused  with 
delight.  "It  will  be  a  pleasure  for  you  to  study  and 
for  me  to  teach." 

"Oh,  sir — you  do  not  mean" — Marie  began, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot — "that  I — I—  '  she 
could  get  no  further. 

"I  mean  that  you  are  to  learn  the  violin,"  he 
replied. 

"But  how — how  can  I?  I  have  no  money,"  she 
asked,  tears  in  her  eyes,  tears  of  astonishment  and 
rapture. 

"I  don't  want  any  money,"  he  said  in  quick,  clear 
accents.  "Money!  and  your  capability !  Why,  I 
can  see  the  artist  in  your  very  touch.  Oh,  I  don't 
want  money.  It  will  be  a  pleasure — do  you  hear, 
little  one  ? — a  pleasure,  a  delight,  to  teach  you.  I 
had  rather  pay  you  for  your  time  than  not  have  you 
for  a  pupil.  Genius  is  hard  to  find ;  when  I  do 
find  it,  I  know  it ;  besides,  it  pays/' 

Marie's  face  was  a  study.  Surprise,  pleasure, 
incredulity  were  all  visible  in  every  change  that 
swept  over  her  sweet  face.  She  had  never  even 
dreamed  that  such  an  overwhelming  joy  would 


166  TttE   YELLOW  VlOLItf 

come  into  her  life.  Tuition  on  her  beloved  instru- 
ment, and  free  !  Could  it  be  possible?  Would  she 
wake  up  presently  and  find  it  all  a  dream?  And 
that  beautiful  masterful  face,  smiling  above  her? 
And  the  perfect  trust  she  felt,  as  if  she  had  known 
him  and  loved  him  all  her  life !  Well,  well,  fairy 
tales  were  not  myths,  after  all.  Was  this  not  the 
most  wonderful  thing  that  could  have  happened  to 
any  girl? 

"Well,  little  one,  what  do  you  say  to  it?  What 
do  you  say,  'sweetest  Marie?'  ' 

"Oh,  sir,"  and  the  tears  were  running  down  her 
cheeks — "what  can  I  say,  only  that  I  am  so  glad! 
so  glad !  Too  happy  to  tell  you.  I  will  see  what 
Cousin  Selina  thinks.  I  will—  "  but  he  interrupted 
her. 

"That  excellent  little  woman  will  do  exactly  as 
I  advise,"  he  said,  smilingly.  "I  think  I  can 
promise  that.  By  the  way,  if  you  will  sit  down 
again,  I  will  write  her  a  note."  He  relieved  her  of 
the  violin,  saw  her  well  seated  and  went  towards 
his  escritoire,  while,  as  soon  as  she  could  collect 
herself,  she  looked  about  the  spacious  room,  which 
was  luxuriously  furnished.  Curtains  of  green  and 
gold  hung  at  the  windows.  Green  and  white  were 


MARIE'S   INTERVIEW  WITH  THE   PROFESSOR  16? 

the  predominating  colors  in  the  carpet.  No  doubt 
green  was  a  favorite  color  as  it  was  discernible  in 
all  the  upholstery.  The  piano  was  massive  and 
grand.  The  portieres  were  marvels  of  workman- 
ship. There  were  wonders  of  statuary  on  brackets 
and  in  niches,  and  paintings  in  massive  frames,  pic- 
tures to  think  about — far  reaches  of  forest  depths — 
cathedral  arches ;  even  the  chandeliers  were  new 
and  splendid  with  gilt.  "How  rich  he  must  be !" 
sighed  Marie,  fluttered  but  happy — "and  who 
would  have  thought  of  his  coming  here?  And 
he  is  to  teach  me — I  shall  learn  to  play — and  who 
knows  how  it  will  be  sometime  if  I  do  learn — it  will 
give  me  independence,  and  perhaps  I  may  play  in 
public !"  The  thought  quite  took  away  her  breath. 
All  her  wildest  wishes  seemed  on  the  point  of  being 
realized.  How  often  she  had  laid  awake  in  her 
attic  room  at  the  old  German's  and  dreamed  curi- 
ous and  pleasant  dreams  of  what  she  would  like  to 
be  should  ever  any  wonderful  good  fortune  come 
to  her. 

Suddenly  she  saw  a  little  note  held  before  her, 
and  started  up,  trembling.  Surely  she  was  not 
dreaming  now,  for  she  saw  distinctly  written  on  the 
outside  of  the  missive 


168  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"To  the  excellent  lady  of  the  household,  called 

by  courtesy, 

COUSIN  SELINA." 

"You  will  give  that  to  her,"  he  said  in  that  mas- 
terly way  of  his,  in  the  tones  of  his  deep  voice  that 
were  most  thrilling. 

"Thank  you,"  she  rejoined,  and  rose  to  go,  ting- 
ling to  her  finger  ends,  to  say  something  more 
suggestive  for  the  pleasure  he  had  given  her,  but 
she  could  think  of  nothing. 

He  looked  at  her,  smiling,  and  watched  her  till 
she  went  out.  Then  his  manner  changed,  even  his 
face,  and  he  sank  -upon  the  seat  she  had  vacated, 
and  groaned  as  he  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands. 

"Denied  me,"  he  murmured — "every  choicest 
blessing,  every  dearest  wish.  Denied,  always 
denied." 

He  looked  up  again,  almost  fiercely,  as  he  went 
on — 

"But  at  least  I'll  snatch  a  few  happy  hours  out 
of  this — this — friendship,  and  no  one  shall  hinder 
me." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
MISS  JACK'S  DOMNIONS. 

Marie  ran  down  stairs  with  a  happy  heart.  The 
"room  beautiful"  was  flooded  with  light,  save  in 
the  vicinity  of  Ralph's  bed,  which  was  in  shadow. 
The  lustrous  eyes  of  the  invalid  brightened  at  her 
coming.  They  always  did. 

"Won't  you  stay  and  talk  with  me  a  moment, 
little  sunshine,"  he  said,  playfully,  but  there  was  a 
tone  of  real  longing  in  his  voice.  "Cousin  Selina 
has  gone  out  to  get  me  something  I  fancied.  I'm 
a  great  burden  to  her,"  and  he  sighed. 

"You're  not  a  bit  of  a  burden,"  said  Marie.  "It's 
a  pleasure  to  her,  a  great  pleasure.  Indeed  we  all 
love  to  take  care  of  you.  Are  you  not  dear  Anne's 
brother?" 

He  groaned  as  he  moved  restlessly,  but  never 
answered  a  word.  Marie  could  not  help  wonder- 
ing why  he  should  groan. 

"I  suppose  you've  seen  the  old  man  up  stairs," 
he  went  on  as  Marie  sat  down  by  the  bedside. 

(169) 


170  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "but  if  it  wasn't  for  his  white 
hair,  he  wouldn't  seem  so  very  old.  He's  hand- 
some, too.'' 

"It  takes  a  girl  to  find  that  out,"  he  said,  laugh- 
ing. 

"Yes,  and  to  find  out  that  he  is  good  and  noble, 
too,"  she  returned  with  an  enthusiasm  that  amused 
him.  "Suppose  I  should  tell  you  that  he  is  going 
to  teach  me  the  violin." 

"Why,  that's  good  news,"  he  said,  after  a  little 
quiet  musing.  "Do  you  like  it?" 

"Like  it !"  and  the  glory  in  her  eyes,  the  expres- 
sion of  her  voice  gave  all  the  certitude  that  the 
exclamation  expressed. 

"I  remember  hearing  the  violin  and  loving  it 
when  I  was  but  a  tiny  child,"  she  went  on,  her  face 
growing  grave  with  memory.  "And  I  believe  I 
shall  some  day  make  my  living  with  it !  Why  not 
I  as  well  as  another?" 

"Why  not.  of  course,"  he  said.  "All  you  want 
is  to  work  hard.  I  wish  I  could  work  hard,"  he 
sighed. 

"You  will,  when  you  get  strong  enough,"  she 
responded,  her  heart  aching  to  comfort  him. 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  171 

"I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  get  stronger;"  and 
his  lips  began  to  quiver. 

"Oh,  now  you  are  losing  heart — that  will  never 
do  in  the  world,"  she  said,  frightened  at  his  words, 
yet  striving  to  hide  her  fear.  "Remember  that 
your  sister  is  coming  today,  and  she  will  help 
Cousin  Selina  nurse  you,  and  I  will  help  her.  Why 
you  can't  fail  to  get  well." 

"Oh,  perhaps,"  he  returned  wearily,  "you  are  all 
too  good  to  me." 

"No,  I  am  sure  we  all  live  to  help  you,  especially 
Cousin  Selina.  Why  I  believe  she  loves  you  as  she 
would  a  very  own  son." 

"I  should  like  to  be  a  son  to  her,"  he  said,  his 
voice  breaking  a  little,  "I  should  like  to  work  for 
her  and  help  her  bear  the  burdens  of  life — but"- 
he  paused  with  his  eyes  intently  fixed  on  a  picture 
on  the  wall  opposite.     "I  don't  think  I  ever  shall." 

"Nonsense — you're  nervous,"  Marie  responded, 
trying  to  laugh,  but  some  way  she  could  not. 
There  was  a  big  lump  in  her  throat,  and  she  was 
glad  when  Anne  came  in,  her  face  radiant. 

"I've  come  to  stay  this  time,"  Anne  said,  pulling 
off  hat  and  veil,  and  then  her  gloves  and  jacket. 


172  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

She  moved  towards  the  bed,  but  Ralph  had  turned 
his  face  away,  and  did  not  stir. 

"Is  he  asleep?"  she  whispered  to  Marie.  "I 
thought — " 

Marie  made  a  little  motion  and  the  two  moved 
away. 

"He  cried  a  little,"  she  whispered.  "I  think, 
maybe,  he  don't  wan't  to  let  you  know  it.  He 
doesn't  feel  so  well  today." 

Then  Cousin  Selina  came  in,  bringing  an  out- 
door freshness  of  atmosphere  with  her.  She  wel- 
comed Anne  with  a  kiss,  and  her  face  beamed. 
Presently  the  two  girls  went  into  the  room  in 
whose  fitting  up  Marie  had  so  zealously  assisted. 

"Isn't  it  just  sweet?"  Anne  exclaimed,  examin- 
ing the  closet,  the  book-case,  the  bureau.  "It's 
a  lovely  size,  and  when  my  pictures  come,  and 
Toto — they'll  be  here  in  a  few  moments — I  hired 
a  man  to  bring  them — " 

"But  who  is  Toto?"  Marie  asked,  "I  never  heard 
of  him  before." 

"Why,  Toto  is  my  canary,"  Anne  answered,  "a 
little  bit  of  yellow  flame  not  bigger  than  that,"  and 
she  measured  her  finger.  "But  for  all  his  small 
size,  he's  the  cutest  thing  you  ever  saw,  and  a 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  173 

great  deal  of  company.  I  have  trained  him,  and 
he  will  go  on  your  finger  and  sit  there  and  sing — 
oh,  he's  splendid  company." 

"I  do  love  canary  birds,"  said  Marie,  "but  I 
never  owned  one.  Those  I  have  seen  are  all  shy." 

"But  Toto  is  not  shy  at  all,  and  he  will  love  you 
at  sight.  Oh,  won't  we  have  good  times  here? 
Only  I  shall  miss  my  piano — but  that  I  couldn't 
very  well  take.  Toto  will  make  music  for  us." 

"And  I,  when  I  am  alone,  shall  practice  the 
violin,"  said  Marie,  a  touch  of  pride  in  her  voice. 

"Oh,  are  you  really  going  to  learn?"  asked 
Anne,  as  she  snugly  stowed  away  her  wraps,  "Why 
that's  beautiful.  You  must  tell  me  all  about  it." 

Marie  told  her  of  her  morning  visit  and  its  re- 
sults. Anne's  face  beamed. 

"I  don't  see  but  you  are  having  the  very  best 
luck,"  she  said,  "I  am  so  glad  for  you.  And  what 
a  delightful  thing  that  you  like  it !  You  will  make 
a  great  violinist;  I  predict  it.  And  don't  be  afraid 
to  practice  before  me — it  won't  trouble  me  at  all, 
even  if  I  am  studying.  Such  things  never  do. 
Even  a  jew's-harp  doesn't  disturb  me.  And  to 
think  that  you  are  going  to  learn !  Does  Cousin 

Selina  know?" 
12 


174  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Not  yet,"  Marie  answered. 

"Let  me  tell  her/'  said  Anne  eagerly,  "and  see 
how  delighted  she  will  be.  What  a  dear  little 
cross!"  she  went  on,  lifting  a  delicately  chased 
Greek  cross,  attached  to  a  bit  of  blue  ribbon,  from 
a  small  box. 

"I  have  worn  that  round  my  neck  ever  since  I 
can  remember,"  said  Marie,  who  was  busy  with 
her  patchwork.  "My  father  gave  it  to  my  mother 
when  I  was  a  little  baby,  and  she  gave  it  to  me. 
Sometimes  I  have  been  tempted  to  sell  it,  but  I 
never  could." 

"I  never  would  part  with  it,"  Anne  responded, 
"it  is  so  tiny  and  beautiful.  And  how  nicely  the 
shelves  fit  into  the  alcove — plenty  of  room  for  all 
my  books.  I  do  think  we  shall  enjoy  ourselves 
together.  We'll  each  have  a  pin  cushion  apiece, 
and  try  and  see  how  neatly  we  can  keep  the  bureau. 
I  do  hate  to  see  a  girl  throw  all  her  things  'round, 
don't  you?" 

"I  haven't  many  things  to  throw  'round/'  said 
Marie,  laughing,  "but  I  shall  try  to  be  neat.  My 
mother  taught  me  to  have  a  place  for  everything 
and  put  everything  in  its  place,  so  I  know  how." 

"You  know — ever  so  much  more  than  I  do,  in 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  175 

some    things,"    said    Anne,    "but    there's    Cousin 
Selina's  bell." 

'That  means  she  needs  me,"  said  Marie,  putting 
her  work  aside.  She  entered  the  room  beautiful. 
Cousin  Selina  sat  in  her  accustomed  place  by  the 
window,  and  in  her  hand  was  the  note  written  by 
Professor  Castelin. 

"I  am  very  glad  for  you,  my  dear,"  she  said,  as 
Marie  came  forward,  "you  may  read  this  note." 

"Dear  Madam  Selina,"  the  paper  began. 

"I  find  a  kindred  spirit  in  the  little  Marie,  at 
present  in  your  employ.  Permit  me  to  say  that  I 
am  much  interested  in  her  welfare,  and  have  been 
since  I  first  saw  her,  some  \veeks  ago,  at  the  win- 
dow of  a  music  store  in  this  city.  I  propose,  with 
your  permission,  to  instruct  her  on  the  violin,  hav- 
ing assured  myself  that  she  has  a  more  than  ordi- 
nary predilection  for  that  instrument,  and  a  genius 
for  study  and  hard  work.  Let  me  know  if  it  will 
interfere  with  her  duties,  and,  if  so,  as  I  have  taken 
a  great  fancy  to  the  child,  I  will  make  other 
arrangements,  and  gladly  pay  you  for  her  time. 
Very  respectfully, 

L.  Immanuel  Castelin." 

"Oh,  he  is  too  good,"  said  Marie,  chokingly.     . 


176  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"I  don't  think  he  is,"  Cousin  Selina  said  in  her 
quiet  way.  "I  think  that  was  his  purpose  the  first 
time  he  saw  you,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad,  even  if  it 
deprives  me  of  your  service." 

"But — oh,  don't  say  that;  shall  I  ever  have  to 
leave  you,  my  dearest  friend  on  earth?"  the  girl 
cried  in  quick  alarm. 

"I  hope  not,  dear.  You  shall  still  stay  with  me 
as  long  as  you  like,  and  give  me  what  time  you  can 
spare.  I  congratulate  you  on  the  chance  that  is 
given  you  for  improvement.  Who  knows  what  it 
may  do  for  you?" 

"But  I  have  no  violin — how  can  I  practice?" 
Marie  asked. 

"Oh,  don't  fear,  he  will  see  to  that.  I  give  you 
into  his  hands,  for  I  have  unbounded  confidence  in 
him.  I  am  sure  he  has  your  interest  at  heart." 

Marie  was  silent,  but  her  mood  was  intelligible 
enough,  though  she  was  almost  overwhelmed  with 
what  she  had  gone  through  that  day.  Thoughts 
and  emotions  new  to  her  crowded  on  her  mind.  A 
vista  of  wonderful  surprises  was  opening  to  her. 
She  could  not  be  grateful  enough. 

"I  shall  talk  to  Professor  Castelin  today,"  said 
Cousin  Selina,  "and  after  getting  his  views  govern 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  177 

myself  accordingly.  Everything  shall  be  arranged 
for  you,  and  I  hope  it  will  make  you  very  happy, 
as  it  will  be.  And  now,  I  wish  you  would  go  down 
stairs  into  Miss  Jacquelina's  quarters.  She  has 
promised  me  some  recipes,  and  I  have  offered  to 
lend  her  some  books.  Here  they  are.  Give  her 
my  compliments  and  ask  after  her  health.  I  have 
not  seen  her  since  the  professor  came." 

Marie  went  gladly  on  her  errand,  but  bethought 
herself  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  She  had  never 
been  in  the  lower  part  of  the  house,  and  her  curio- 
sity concerning  the  odd  little  creature  who  made 
her  home  there,  was  quite  equal  to  her  sympathy 
for  one  so  very  lonely  as  she  must  be.  Anne  had 
often  expressed  a  wish  to  see  her;  why  not  give 
her  a  chance  to  improve  this  opportunity?  So  she 
ran  back  to  ask  Cousin  Selina  if  Anne  might  go 
with  her,  and,  on  her  assent,  crossed  the  hall  and 
called  Anne,  who  was  nothing  loath  to  go. 

Miss  Jack  received  them  with  an  old-time  court- 
liness which  was  enhanced  by  the  quaint  costume 
in  which  she  had  arrayed  herself.  This  was  no 
other  than  a  yellow  silk  petticoat  with  stripes  of 
black  velvet  sewed  on  diagonally,  a  sacque  of 
ancient  make,  but  picturesque,  an  old-fashioned 


178  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

chain  of  many  strands  of  coral  about  her  neck, 
bracelets  of  the  same  on  her  arms,  and  a  dainty 
cap,  probably  a  recent  purchase,  on  her  head,  and 
from  under  which  two  or  three  iron  gray  curls 
hung-  over  her  shoulders. 

"Come  in,  misses,  welcome  to  my  castle.  It  has 
been  said  one's  home  is  one's  castle,  has  it  not,  and 
I  am  rather  mediaeval  in  my  language  and  my  life. 
Let  me  get  you  a  little  more  light/'  and  she  hur- 
ried to  open  the  inner  blinds,  letting  in  a  thin  ray 
of  sunshine. 

The  room  had  a  musty  smell,  the  furniture  was 
very  old  fashioned.  There  were  many  pictures  on 
the  walls,  chiefly  portraits  of  dead  and  gone  people, 
prim,  stern  and  aristocratic. 

As  the  light  penetrated  funher,  Anne  caught 
sight  of  an  easel  standing  on  one  side  and  covered 
with  a  cloth. 

"Does  anyone  paint  here?"  she  asked. 

Miss  Jack  bridled  with  a  little  conscious  vanity. 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "I  paint.  Sometimes  the  fit 
takes  me,  and  I  work  day  after  clay,  until  the  inspir- 
ation leaves  me.  It's  just  so  with  poetry.  The 
divine  afflatus,  as  the  great  writers  call  it,  comes 
and  goes.  I  have  written  much  in  the  halls  of  my 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  179 

fathers.  When  I  was  a  child  this  was  a  grand 
estate,  and  the  gardens  were  full  of  statues  done  by 
great  sculptors,  some  of  them  in  our  own  family. 
These  are  my  fathers,  thrice  removed — father, 
grandfather  and  great  grandfather.  These  are  my 
mothers,  also  thrice  removed;  here  are  my  aunts 
and  grand  aunts,  all  painted  by  eminent  artists.  So 
I  sit  here  among  them,  the  last  of  my  family,  and 
nobody  to  inherit  them.  I  have  been  trying  to 
paint  myself,"  and  she  threw  the  much  besmeared 
cloth  from  the  easel,  and  turned  the  picture  to  the 
light. 

Anne  did  not  laugh,  Marie  did  not  laugh,  but 
the  picture  was  almost  a  caricature,  though  finished 
with  amazing  accuracy  as  to  details.  The  poor 
little  artist  had  never  taken  a  lesson  in  her  life,  and 
yet  in  the  picture  were  the  possibilities  of  genius. 

"It  may  be  too  highly  colored/'  she  said,  mov- 
ing from  side  to  side  to  obtain  a  better  view,  "but 
most  of  my  friends  do  not  object  to  that.  I  used 
to  have  such  a  color." 

Then  she  led  the  girls  into  the  other  large  room, 
all  in  the  neatest  order,  and  in  the  kitchen  which 
had  a  bright  yellow  floor,  and  more  copper  utensils 
than  they  had  either  of  them  ever  seen  in  all  their 


180  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

lives,  burnished  and  shining  like  gold,  hanging  on 
huge  brass  hooks  or  standing  in  niches,  while  a 
queer  little,  old,  black  woman  was  busy  at  the 
fire  heating  her  irons,  and  now  and  then  looking 
at  her  mistress  in  a  sort  of  odd  way. 

"This  is  Mammy  Jenkins."  said  Miss  Jack,  intro- 
ducing her.  "She  has  been  in  the  family  fifty  odd 
years.  I  shouldn't  know  how  to  get  along  without 
her.  She  can  tell  you  the  story  of  every  preserving 
kettle  and  fruit  jar,  every  bit  of  old  silver  and 
earthenware  in  the  house.  She  raised  me,  didn't 
you,  mammy?" 

The  worn,  old,  black  face  lighted  up,  as  the 
woman  said: 

"  'Deed  I  deed,  missy,  and  I  hopes,"  she  went 
on  in  a  fervor  of  zeal,  "we'll  both  die  and  go  to 
heaven  togedder,  when  de  time  comes." 

"Of  couse  we  shall,"  Miss  Jack  admitted  in  a 
matter  of  fact  way;  "the  Lord  wouldn't  think  of 
separating  us  after  being  together  so  long.  Now 
come  out  and  see  my  garden.  Sometimes  I  call  it 
a  hot  house.  I  sell  a  good  many  flowers  through 
the  year." 

It  was  a  novel  spectacle,  but  most  beautiful  in 
effectiveness  of  color  and  good  taste  in  arrange- 


MISS  JACK'S  DOMINIONS  181 

ment.  A  sort  of  sliding  garden,  filled  with  every 
variety  of  flowers,  and  made  so  that  it  could  be 
pulled  into  shelter,  easily,  by  simple  machinery. 

"You  see  I  grow  my  own  lettuce  and  several 
other  things,"  she  said,  surveying  the  arrangement 
proudly.  "I  never  want  for  a  little  green  stuff  in 
the  winter."  Then  she  gathered  a  bouquet  for  each 
of  them,  and  they  left  the  place  with  added  respect 
for  the  oddity,  as  people  called  her,  and  a  renewed 
admiration  of  her  genius. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  BOY'S  CONFESSION. 

It  was  evident  that  Ralph  was  not  so  well.  The 
doctor  came  once  a  day  and  always  went  away 
with  a  puzzled  expression. 

"Don't  you  think  he  is  getting  any  stronger?" 
Cousin  Selina  asked  him,  following  him  out  one 
day. 

"Rather  weaker,"  said  the  physician. 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  him  dangerously  ill," 
was  the  next  anxious  question. 

"He  is  certainly  in  a  critical  condition,  my  dear 
madam/'  the  doctor  replied.  "As  I  have  said 
before,  everything  depends  upon  good  nursing." 

"He  shall  have  that,"  said  Cousin  Selina,,  as 
devoutly  as  though  she  had  said  a  prayer. 

"No  doubt  of  it/'  echoed  the  doctor,  smilingly, 
"meantime,  the  city  is  a  bad  place  for  a  sick  man. 
Pity  he  couldn't  get  good  country  air  and  fare. 
Oh,  he  will  pull  through,"  he  went  on,  as  he  saw 

the  change  in  her  countenance,  "don't  worry  about 
(182) 


A    BOY'S   CONFESSION  183 

it.  He  appears  to  have  some  trouble  on  his  mind. 
We  doctors  are  vain  enough  to  think  we  can  see  a 
little  below  the  surface,  and  this  young  fellow  has 
melancholia  at  times,  which  I  cannot  account  for. 
His  restlessness  can  hardly  proceed  from  pain, 
since  his  arm  is  well,  and  some  other  symptoms 
are  favorable.  Question  him  some  day  when  he 
seems  stronger  and  is  inclined  to  talk.  He  may 
confide  in  you  when  he  would  not  tell  the  doctor." 

Cousin  Selina  went  back  to  her  patient,  some- 
what puzzled.  She  had  thought  much  the  same 
thing. 

Anne  was  sitting  by  the  window,  sewing.  She 
looked  up  as  Cousin  Selina  came  in. 

"Ralph  has  been  very  restless,"  she  said. 

"Have  you  been  talking  to  him?" 

"No/'  said  Anne,  "but  I  am  quite  ready  to  talk 
or  read  to  him."  She  went  towards  the  bed. 

"Is  there  anything  you  would  like,  Ralph  dear?" 
she  asked  tenderly. 

"No,  thank  you,"  he  answered,  and  though  his 
head  was  turned  away,  Anne  thought  she  saw  a 
tear  roll  down  his  cheek. 

"Are  you  in  pain?"  she  asked. 


184  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"No — yes — that  is,  no  great  pain.  I — I  believe 
I  should  like  to  hear  some  music." 

"I  often  sing  without  the  piano,"  she  said,  "but 
I  know  very  little  beside  church  and  Sunday  school 
music." 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  that,"  he  said  almost  peevish- 
ly, "don't  you  know  something  funny?" 

"Sing  the  'Little  Tin  Soldier,'"  said  Cousin 
Selina,  who  was  lifting  her  guitar  from  its  case. 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  he  responded  eagerly.  So  she 
sang  "The  Little  Tin  Soldier,"  to  an  accompani- 
ment on  the  guitar. 

He  listened  and  brightened,  and  asked  for  more  ; 
still  Anne  sung  on.  They  thought  he  was  laugh- 
ing, but  much  to  Cousin  Selina's  alarm,  she  caught 
the  sound  of  a  quick  sob. 

Anne  rose  in  alarm. 

"I  haven't  comforted  you  a  bit,"  she  said.  "I 
have  only  made  you  worse." 

"No,  no,"  the  words  came  gaspingly.  "Don't 
mind  me.  I — I  am  nervous." 

Cousin  Selina,  startled  by  the  strange  sound 
bent  over  him. 

"My  dear  boy,"  and  she  touched  his-  forehead 
tenderly,  "what  is  the  trouble?  He  is  so  easily 


A    BOY'S   CONFESSION  185 

excited,"  she  said  to  Anne.  "Perhaps  I  had  better 
put  the  guitar  away." 

"No — no,  more  music,"  he  half  sobbed.  "I'm 
all  right,"  and  he  gulped  down  another  sob. 

"Play  for  him — I  can't  sing,"  said  Anne,  and 
Cousin  Selina  lifted  the  instrument  again  and 
played  softly  old-fashioned  music  such  as  the 
fathers  and  mothers  of  a  former  generation  played 
and  sung,  till  her  patient  smiled  as  he  listened, 
soothed  and  quieted.  But  Cousin  Selina  remem- 
bered the  doctor's  words,  "Something  retards  his 
recovery — there  is  some  mental  trouble  that  works 
against  my  skill." 

"And  yet,"  she  thought  to  herself,  he  seems  too 
young  to  suffer  from  any  serious  mental  trouble," 
and  she  looked  yearningly  at  the  lad  so  fair  and 
beautiful  and  helpless.  "Some  time,"  she  went 
on,  still  thinking  to  herself,  "when  he  is  in  a  talka- 
tive mood,  if  he  ever  is,  I'll  get  him  to  tell  me 
about  his  past  life.  He  will  maybe  make  a  confes- 
sion of  some  boyish  peccadillo  that  worries  him 
and  keeps  his  spirits  down.  Until  he  recovers 
them  he  will  be  sick  and  helpless." 

Presently  the  boy  was  asleep  with  a  smile  upon 


186  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

his  lips.  Cousin  Selina  went  to  the  window  where 
Anne  sat.  The  girl  was  grave  and  thoughtful. 

"Do  you  think  him  any  worse?"  she  asked,  voice 
and  manner  anxious. 

"No,  dear,  only  very  low-spirited,"  was  the  ans- 
wer. 

"Of  course,  that  is  only  natural,"  Anne  said. 
"What  boy  wouldn't  be,  cooped  up  as  he  is,  lying 
so  still  and  helpless  for  days  and  weeks." 

"Yes,  poor  child,  but  I  am  doing  my  best  for 
him,"  Cousin  Selina  responded. 

"Indeed  you  are,  you  dear  generous  woman;  my 
only  fear  is  that  you  have  undertaken  too  much, 
with-your  small  means.  I  am  so  glad  I  am  here  to 
help  you  with  my  board  money  and  what  little  I 
can  do  for  brother  Ralph,"  and  Anne  ended  her 
little  speech  with  a  kiss.  "Then  you  know  we 
have  all  those  nice  dressess  to  make  over  for  Marie. 
Isn't  it  delightful  that  the  professor  has  taken  such 
a  fancy  to  her?  They  say  he  is  very  rich,  and  none 
but  a  man  of  money  could  furnish  a  room  as  he 
has  his  studio.  It  is  simply  magnificent." 

"It  certainly  is  beautiful,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
absently,  "but  I  was  thinking  how  much  good  the 
pure  country  air  would  do  our  boy." 


A  BOY'S  CONFESSION  187 

"I  saw  the  dearest  little  country  house  yester- 
day," Anne  said,  "and  I  thought  oh  if  I  could  only 
buy  that  for  Cousin  Selina  and  take  Ralph  out 
there.  Never  mind,  perhaps  the  chance  will  come, 
a  little  home  somewhere  amidst  green  fields,  with 
the  pine  woods  within  walking  distance.  Let's 
wait  and  see.  Things  always  come  to  those  who 
wait  patiently." 

A  day  or  two  after  Cousin  Selina  was  sitting 
alone  with  Ralph.  Anne  was  at  school,  and  Marie 
had  gone  out  on  an  errand. 

As  she  sewed  leisurely  she  heard  a  strange  sound. 
It  was  a  sob,  the  sob  of  a  soul  in  piteous  trouble, 
and  it  sent  her  with  quick  steps  and  throbbing 
pulses  to  Ralph's  side. 

The  boy  was  weeping  bitterly.  His  fair  hair 
was  disarranged.  Great  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks,  his  lips  were  white  and  drawn,  his  eyes 
bloodshot,  his  whole  demeanor  that  of  despair. 

Cousin  Selina  was  frightened.  She  had  never 
seen  him  in  this  mood  before.  What  could  she  do 
to  soothe  and  help  him?  She  herself  was  very 
much  shaken  at  sight  of  his  grief,  whatever  might 
have  caused  it. 

"My    dear   boy,    this  is  terrible,"    she    faltered. 


188  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"What  can  I  say  to  you ;  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

He  pulled  the  pillow  half  over  his  face. 

"Don't  call  me,  'dear  boy,'  please,  please,"  he 
cried  out  in  agony. 

"Why,  Ralph,  my  dear  lad?"  And  she  stood 
still,  more  and  more  surprised. 

"No,  no — don't,  I  can't  bear  it,"  he  sobbed. 

'What  is  it  I  must  not  do?"  she  asked,  perplexed. 

"You  must  not  talk  to  me.  You  must  not  care 
for  me  nor  love  me.  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it.  It  will 
kill  me,"  he  groaned. 

"I  must  not  love  you !  But  I  do.  I  must  not 
care  for  you?  My  poor  boy!  I  don't  understand 
you." 

"You  will,  soon  enough,"  he  murmured;  "you 
will  soon  enough.  You  will  think  I  am  the  mean- 
est, wickedest  boy  in  all  the  world.  Oh,  believe 
me,  I  have  felt  at  times  as  if  I  were  almost  in  heaven 
while  I  have  been  here.  I  prize  every  little  word 
you  have  said.  I've  thought  of  you,  dreamed  of 
you.  I  never  knew  a  mother's  love,  and  you 
seemed  to  take  the  place  of  the  mother  I  never 
knew." 

The  pathos  and  passion  in  his  voice  were  almost 
untranslatable. 


A   BOY'S   CONFESSION  189 

"The  mother  you  never  knew/'  murmured 
Cousin  Selina,  lost  in  astonishment. 

"No,  I  never  knew  her,  for  she  died  when  I  was 
born.  But,  oh,  how  can  I  tell  you?  How  can  I 
bear  to  sink  so  low  in  your  esteem?  so  low — into 
such  terrible  depths?" 

Cousin  Selina  moved  a  step  or  two  to  be  certain 
she  was  not  dreaming.  She  even  looked  about  the 
room  to  make  sure  that  everything  was  as  it  had 
been. 

"My  poor  boy — my  dear  Ralph,"  she  repeated, 
completely  bewildered. 

"You  may  call  me  Ralph,"  he  said,  growing 
calmer,  "for  that  is  my  name,  but  you  must  never 
use  any  expression  of  endearment  again.  I  am  not 
worthy — oh,  how  unworthy!" 

Cousin  Selina  came  back  to  herself. 

"Are  you  out  of  your  mind,  my  lad?"  was  her 
first  startled  question.  "It  must  be  that  the  fever 
is  on  you  and  you  don't  know  what  you  are  saying, 
it  must  be." 

"No,  I  have  no  fever.  I  am  in  my  right  mind, 
thank  God.  I  know  what  I  am  saying.  I  am  fully 

conscious  of  the  wicked  thing  I  have  done." 
13 


190  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

"The  wicked  thing!"  echoed  Cousin  Selina,  her 
face  growing  pale. 

"Yes,  wicked,  and  oh  how  shall  I  tell  you?"  he 
groaned. 

"If  it  will  make  you  well,  if  it  will  help  you  to  get 
better,  tell  me,  no  matter  what  it  is,"  said  Cousin 
Selina,  desperately,  but  her  voice  trembled. 

"I  wish  I  had  died  before  ever  you  saw  me,"  he 
said. 

"That  wish  of  itself  is  wicked,"  was  Cousin 
Selina's  rejoinder. 

"I  know  it,  but  I  do — I  wish  I  had  gone  to  the 
hospital.  You  will  send  me  there,  now." 

"To  the  hospital !  never,  my  dear  Ralph.  You 
must  explain  what  your  words  mean.  I  fear  you 
are  not  quite  in  your  right  mind." 

"I  am  not  your  dear  Ralph,"  he  answered,  "I 
never  shall  be  again.  I — I  have  deceived  you." 

"You  have  deceived  me!  You  are  not  Ralph! 
Not  my  brother's  child!  Not  Ralph!" 

"I  am  not.  Heaven  be  merciful  to  me.  I  can- 
not any  longer  be  a  liar  and  a  deceiver.  I  am  not 
your  Ralph." 

"Then  who  are  you?"  she  asked,  catching  her 
breath. 


A   BOY'S   CONFESSION  191 

"A  waif,  without  father  or  mother,  relatives  or 
friends.  A  wanderer,  alone  in  the  wide  world. 
That  is  all  I  can  tell  you,"  and  his  voice  was  utterly 
sad.  "Your  kindness,  your  heavenly  kindness, 
your  sweet  and  loving  words,  compel  me  to  unde- 
ceive you.  I  have  no  right  even  to  your  com- 
passion." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  The  ticking  of  the 
clock  never  sounded  so  loud.  Cousin  Selina  could 
almost  hear  the  beating  of  her  own  heart. 

"You  are  not  utterly  alone,"  she  said,  at  last. 
"No,  my  poor  boy,  not  while  I  live." 

His  tears,  his  self-abasement  appealed  to  her 
generous  nature.  And  she  had  not  yet  recovered 
from  the  shock  his  disclosure  had  given  her. 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  which  were 
trembling  with  the  effort  he  made  to  be  calm. 
Then  he  shook  his  head  and  said  hoarsely : 

"No,  no — but  it  is  good  of  you  to  say  so.  I 
cannot  live  on  your  generosity.  I  thought  I  should 
be  able  to  face  this  thing  out.  I  thought  I  was 
more  hardened  than  I  am." 

"Then,  our  Ralph  was  lost,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
sorrowfully.  "Tell  me  everything." 

"Yes,"  was  the  sad  answer.     "Let  me  tell  YOU 


192  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

the  whole  story.  He  and  I  took  service  on  the 
same  ship.  His  given  name  was  Ralph,  the  same 
as  mine.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to  tell,  but  we  were 
alike  in  person,  height  and  manners.  I  admired 
him  very  much  so  that  I  copied  him.  He  was  con- 
stantly taken  for  me,  and  I  for  him,  which  made  no 
difference,  as  our  duties  were  the  same.  The  sailors 
aboard  called  us  the  twins.  Yes,  he  fell  overboard 
in  a  terrible  gale.  Every  effort  was  made  to  save 
him,  but  he  went  down." 

"Oh,  this  is  dreadful,"  Cousin  Selina  exclaimed, 
and  her  clasped  hands  trembled.  Like  one  hang- 
ing on  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  knowing  that  a  fall 
will  be  fatal,  so  she  clung  to  all  that  she  had  helped, 
believed  and  suffered.  "Can  I  realize  it?"  she  cried 
aloud— "must  I?" 

"I  have  told  you  the  truth,"  he  said,  conclusively, 
his  face  looking  so  childlike  and  innocent,  with  the 
wide  blue  eyes  clouded  by  tears.  "I  will  tell  you 
the  whole  truth,  while  I  have  strength  to  do  it.  He 
was  lost,  and  though  I  cried  of  nights  in  the  fore- 
castle, and  felt  strange  of  days  because  of  his  going, 
I  appropriated  his  effects,  at  first,  honestly,  to 
bring  them  to  his  people,  but  when  I  was  taken 
sick,  I  had  such  a  horror  of  the  hospital,  that  a  wild 


A   BOY'S   CONFESSION  193 

and  wicked  idea  came  into  my  head.  The  true 
Ralph  had  friends  and  relatives — I  had  nobody.  I 
had  been  educated  in  an  orphan  asylum,  where  for 
most  things  I  needed  I  had  to  shift  for  myself,  and 
get  what  I  desired  in  any  way  that  occurred  to  me. 
He  grew  up  in  a  beautiful  home  where  every  one 
loved  him  and  helped  him  when  he  needed  help. 
He  often  told  me  about  his  family,  how  wealthy 
some  of  them  were,  in  particular  an  aunt  Hannah 
who  had  wanted  to  adopt  him  as  a  son.  He 
declared  he  only  ran  away  to  make  his  fortune  and 
go  home  and  surprise  them  all,  particularly  his 
sister  Anne,  whom  he  intended  to  take  care  of, 
because  like  himself,  she  was  poor. 

"Then  I  reasoned,  and  I  can  see  now  how  fool- 
ishly and  wickedly,  why  shouldn't  I  profit  by  the 
advantages  that  had  come  my  way?  I  decided  to 
do  so.  I  read  the  few  letters  he  had  left,  I  got  by 
heart  the  names  and  residences  of  his  relations.  I 
knew  my  resemblance  to  him  was  striking  enough 
to  deceive  his  nearest  friends — well,  I  have  played 
the  farce  out — and  I  have  never  had  one  happy 
moment." 

Cousin  Selina  gave  a  mournful  gesture  of  assent, 
but  did  not  speak.  She  could  not.  She  sat  regard- 


194  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

ing  with  the  strangest  mixture  of  regret  and  pity, 
this  phantom  of  dead  hopes.  Her  attitude  was 
rigid,  her  mouth  indrawn  and  white.  What  should 
she  do  with  this  singular  experience,  this  ghost  of 
error  that  had  come  into  her  life  so  strangely,  and 
might  disappear  at  any  moment? 

"Before  I  came  here,"  he  went  on,  gathering 
strength  from  the  compassion  in  her  face  which 
she  had  no  knowledge  of  displaying,  "I  rather 
rejoiced  in  the  scheme,  despite  my  conscience,  and 
so  far  as  I  felt  it  might  benefit  me,  but  since  I  have 
been  here  under  your  angelic  care  and  taking 
every  blessing  that  has  come  from  your  charity  I 
have  been  so  conscience  stricken  that  I  felt  I  could 
not  bear  it  any  longer.  So  now  you  know  all." 

Cousin  Selina  lifted  her  head  which  had  been 
bowed  during  the  last  words  of  his  confession. 

"It  is  all  so  strange!  so  hard  to  believe!  so  piti- 
ful !  so  pitiful !"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  softly 
drawing  one  hand  over  the  other.  "Still  I  shall 
never  regret  that  I  have  done  a  kindness  to  one 
who  was  sick  and  suffering.  I  don't  know  what 
to  say  to  it  all — I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"I  should  think  you  would,"  he  returned,  in  a 
faint  voice.  "The  hospital  is  the  only  proper  place 


A   BOY'S   CONFESSION  195 

for  me  now.  I  dread  it,  but  I  deserve  it,  and  no 
doubt  God  sees  that  I  need  that  sort  of  punishment. 
Yes,  I  deserve  it,"  and  hiding  his  face  in  his  hands 
he  wept  pitifully. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
REPENTENCE  AND  FORGIVENESS. 

"My  dear  boy!"  Cousin  Selina  said,  and  there 
was  the  suspicion  of  a  sob  in  her  own  voice — a 
commotion  of  mingled  feelings  oppressed  her,  and 
life  seemed  full  of  mystery.  She  had  never 
fathomed  anything  like  this  in  the  sea  of  existence, 
she  had  never  met  with  even  the  shadow  of  a  sin 
like  this,  but  the  heart  of  her  was  stirred  with  a 
feeling  akin  to  mercy,  and  there  was  no  harshness 
in  her  voice,  as  there  was  no  anger  in  her  gentle 
heart,  only  sorrow  and  sweet  pitifulness.  Her  soul 
with  a  broad  outlook  and  large  grasp  gathered  the 
erring  boy  in  its  arms.  She  could  not,  dared  not  be 
angry  while  the  good  and  the  evil  of  another  soul 
were  each  striving  for  the  victory. 

"Oh,  how  can  you  say  'my  dear  boy'  to  me — 
when — when  you  know?"  he  said,  awe-struck. 

"I  was  thinking,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  "how  the 

good  God  may  be  showing  His  wonderful  love  to 
(196) 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  197 

you  just  now  and  here,"  was  the  low  response. 
"My  dear  boy,  I  have  grown  to  love  you  very 
much." 

Had  the  heavens  opened  the  lad  could  not  have 
been  more  startled  and  astonished.  The  fragrance 
of  flowers,  the  music  of  birds,  the  beauty  of  para- 
dise seemed  at  that  moment  to  steal  into  his  heart. 
But  the  ecstasy  passed,  and  the  hopelessness  came 
back. 

"But  what  is  there  in  me  to  love?"  he  asked 
tearfully,  sinking  back.  "I  have  deceived,  lied, 
stolen.  I  have  become  everything  that  is  mean  and 
degrading  in  this  one  downfall.  Could  even  God 
love  me  after  that?" 

"Why,  yes,"  she  answered  softly,  "He  loves  the 
soul  in  you  that  has  waked  up  to  the  consciousness 
of  evil,  as  yours  has,  or  He  would  not  have  given 
that  great  command,  'I  say  not  unto  you  seven 
times,  but  seventy  times  seven.'  That  shows  that 
He  is  never  tired  of  forgiving  the  soul  that  shows 
its  sincerity  and  its  penitence." 

And  yet,  as  she  thought  it  over,  Cousin  Selina 
was  perplexed  by  the  often  recurring  question, 
"Have  I  done  right?"  She  was  fully  conscious  that 
her  great  warm  heart  often  ran  away,  as  the  saying 


198  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

is,  with  her  head,  that  love  and  sympathy  pulled 
one  way,  when  a  severe  sense  of  duty  and  a  prac- 
tical application  should  have  influenced  her  to  turn 
in  a  different  direction ;  but  here  was  a  poor,  sick, 
helpless  boy,  a  waif,  drifted  out  of  the  world,  in  her 
arms,  and  yet  a  hero,  since  he  had  nobly  confessed, 
in  the  face  of  small  hope  of  compassion,  to  the  evil 
that  had  conquered  him.  Ho  had  won  her  heart 
by  his  patience,  and  constant  gratitude.  His  like- 
ness to  the  lost  boy  was  marvellous.  Even  now  she 
could  not  realize  that  it  was  not  Ralph,  her  Ralph. 
Who  else  would  car  for  him?  She  had  come  to 
consider  him  a  sacred  charge — if  she  sent  him 
away  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  hospital,  and  he 
should  die  of  anguish  or  remorse,  she  would  have 
considered  herself  his  murderer.  Now  was  the 
time  to  sow  in  his  heart  the  seeds  of  love  and  faith 
that  might,  with  their  steady  growth,  change  the 
whole  current  of  his  life. 

The  boy  had  become  even  more  grave  as  the 
woman  pursued  her  speculations. 

"She  is  changing  her  mind/'  he  thought.  "She 
sees,  upon  reflection,  the  enormity  of  my  conduct.' 
Tears  of  disappointment  came  into  his  blue  eyes. 

"I  only  wish  I  could  die,"  he  murmured. 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  199 

"Don't  wish  that,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  called 
from  her  reflections.  "Death  would  not  give  you 
the  rest  you  desire,  perhaps.  It  is  life  and  health 
you  should  pray  for  in  order  to  show  your  grati- 
tude to  the  Almighty.  It  is  by  living  that  grand 
life  He  has  made  possible  that  you  can  best  show 
your  sorrow  for  the  evil  you  have  done." 

"Oh,  that  gives  me  hope,"  he  exclaimed,  earn- 
estly. "I  feel  like  one  suddenly  let  out  of  prison. 
What  shall  I  do  to  show  you  how  grateful  I  am? 
Give  me  any  task — send  me  anywhere." 

Cousin  Selina's  lips  trembled  to  a  smile.  It  was 
almost  grotesque  to  hear  him,  lying  there  so  help- 
less, talk  of  doing  and  going. 

"My  dear  boy,  I  shall  keep  you  with  me  until  you 
are  well,  and  able  to  do  for  yourself.  I  don't  doubt 
but  that,  according  to  human  law  and  judgment,  I 
ought  to  be  very  angry  with  you,  but  I  cannot — I 
am  sorry,  I  am  disappointed,  how  bitterly  I  dare 
not  say,  but  you  are  our  poor  Ralph's  counter- 
part— you  shall  have  Ralph's  place" — she  paused 
a  moment,  then  added,  reverently,  her  soft  eyes 
taking  on  heaven's  own  splendor — "for  my 
Master's  sake." 


200  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

There  was  a  solemn  silence,  interrupted  only  by 
the  boy's  sobbing  breath. 

"And — you  have — really — forgiven  me?"  trem- 
bled on  his  lips. 

"Fully  and  freely,  as  Christ  will,  as  soon  as  you 
ask  Him,"  she  said. 

"I  feel  like  a  new  creature/'  he  said,  shining  eyes 
and  quivering  smile  attesting  to  the  fact.  "I  will 
prove  it  if  I  live,  and  I  want  to  live  now.  Every 
cent  you  have  spent  for  me  shall  be  religiously 
refunded,  and  I  will  love  you  to  my  death.  I  never 
knew  the  blessing  of  a  mother's  love." 

"You  shall  be  as  my  own  son,"  she  said,  softly. 
"I  shall  look  to  you  for  the  love  that  has  been 
denied  me,  and  which  I  hoped  to  enjoy  in  the  affec- 
tion of  my  brother's  child.  And  now — we  have  to 
think  of — Anne." 

He  turned  his  face  away. 

"Yes,"  he  murmured  with  a  heavily  drawn 
breath — "she  must  be  told." 

"It  will  be  distressing  news  to  her,"  said  Cousin 
Selina. 

He  faced  her  again,  his  heavy  lids  trembling. 

"We  have  not  been  so  very  much  like  brother 
and  sister,"  he  said.  "There  was  ice  in  my  very 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  201 

hand-shake  —  of  course  you   have  not  noticed  it." 

"I  have  noticed  some  things,"  said  Cousin 
Selina,  hesitatingly,  "but  I  thought  they  were  due 
to  the  long  separation — and  the  strangeness  of  it 
all.  But,  poor  child,  she  believes  you  to  be  her 
brother  and  is  planning  all  manner  of  things  for 
your  good,  when  you  shall  get  well." 

"God  bless  her,  and  forgive  me,"  he  said,  fer- 
vently. 

And  then  Cousin  Selina  thought  of  her  half 
sisters — of  two  women  who  were  not  unselfish,  as 
she  was.  If  they  blamed  her  for  taking  upon  her 
hands  the  care  of  a  nephew,  what  would  they  say 
if  the  further  knowledge  came  to  them  that  she 
had  further  charged  herself  with  the  maintenance 
of  a  stranger? 

"I  must  have  time  to  think  the  matter  over,"  she 
said.  "Don't  worry  over  it.  It  will  all  come  out 
right  in  due  time.  Anne  shall  know,  but  not  just 
yet." 

She  knew  what  bitter  comments,  what  unde- 
served upbraidings  she  might  expect,  were  this 
new  version  to  be  made  public.  It  was  with  new 
thankfulness  that  she  reflected  on  the  absence  of 
Aunt  Hannah,  who  would  not  have  spared  her. 


202  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

She  could  not  forget  her  bitter  words,  her  offer  of 
hot  house  flowers,  and  the  menace  of  her  threat, 
"He  is  probably  never  going  to  get  well,  and  you 
will  have  your  trouble  for  your  pains." 

"Then  if  he  dies  he  shall  die  in  my  care/'  was  her 
spirited  reply,  "and  I  will  see  that  he  is  decently 
buried." 

Now,  when  these  words  came  back  to  her,  she 
knew  that  the  boy  was  not  her  nephew,  but  a 
stranger,  and  the  son  of  a  stranger. 

Well,  did  not  the  Christ  have  something  to  say 
about  that — "I  was  a  stranger  and  ye  took  me  not 
in?" 

Christ  could  never  speak  such  words  of  con- 
demnation to  her. 

Meantime  the  two  girls  were  chatting  away  like 
two  magpies,  in  the  room  across  the  hall,  which 
Anne  had  christened  Sunny  Nook.  And  indeed 
the  charm  of  the  sunshine  seemed  to  lie  on  every- 
thing— on  the  flowers,  bright  with  autumnal  tints, 
on  the  pretty  carpet  and  the  pictures  and  the  be- 
ribboned  tidies  that  Anne  had  brought  as  her  share 
of  the  adornment. 

Each  in  her  own  rocking  chair,  they  sewed  and 
crochetted  and  compared  notes.  Together  they 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  203 

used  the  same  books,  for  Anne  had  devoted  the 
evenings  to  instruction,  and  every  hour,  one 
might  almost  say  every  moment,  was  rilled  with  its 
quota  of  work. 

Anne  was  reading  from  a  letter  she  held  in  her 
hand,  and  both  girls  had  been  laughing. 

"What  a  good  time  she  must  be  having!"  said 
Marie,  leaning  back  in  her  chair. 

"Well  yes,  I  suppose  any  one  would  have  a  good 
time  shopping,  with  plenty  of  money  to  spend," 
Anne  assented,  "particularly  in  those  Paris  shops — 
or,  what  does  she  call  them — magasins." 

"Don't  stop  reading.  I  love  dearly  to  hear,  if 
you  don't  mind,"  pleaded  Marie.  "I  think  she 
writes  beautiful  letters." 

"Yes,  Cousin  Fanny  has  a  good  deal  of  talent, 
but  she  fritters  it  away.  Society  and  dress  are  more 
to  her  than  talent  of  any  sort.  Here's  a  choice 
little  bit. 

'After  1  had  selected  my  gloves,  white  and 
cream,  and  bought  some  of  the  loveliest  ribbons, 
oh,  I  know  you  will  say  they  are  quite  heavenly  in 
their  hues,  I  saw  a  crowd  near  by  and  everybody 
hurrying  and  bowing.  It  was  the  queerest  little 
figure,  not  quite  up  to  my  shoulder,  very  richly 


204  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

dressed  and  attended  by  two  tall  footmen;  and  if 
you  could  see  the  -footmen  abroad!  They  put  on 
more  style  than  princes.  After  awhile  one  of  our 
party,  a  young  girl  who  is  a  good  linguist,  told  me 
that  the  little  lady  was  a  hunchback  (I  could  see 
that  when  she  moved  further  on)  and  a  countess. 
By  the  way,  one  of  the  footmen  held  in  his  mighty 
arms  a  tiny  Blenheim  spaniel,  which,  of  course, 
belonged  to  his  mistress.  Oh,  if  ever  I  felt  thank- 
ful for  straight  shoulders,  I  did  then.  The  little 
creature  was  really  beautiful  in  face,  and  everybody 
seemed  to  love  to  wait  upon  her,  she  was  so  gentle. 
She  is  an  English  woman  and  the  daughter  of  a 
celebrated  man ;  but  I'd  rather  be  your  plain  Cousin 
Fanny  than  a  countess  with  a  figure  like  that.' 

"Isn't  it  dreadful!"  said  Marie,  suspending  her 
work.  "One  likes  to  be  shapely  and  good  look- 
ing." 

"Yes,"  Anne  responded,  "and  that's  why  I  so 
delight  in  brother  Ralph.  He  is  so  handsome  and 
has  such  beautiful  blue  eyes !  I  am  glad  his  occu- 
pation has  not  coarsened  him,  or  made  him  com- 
monplace." 

"Do  you  suppose,"  said  Marie,  in  a  thoughtful 
undertone,  "that  I  shall  ever  go  abroad,  if  I  should 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  205 

learn  the  violin  well  enough  to  appear  in  public?" 

"Why,  of  course  you  would/'  was  Anne's  ans- 
wer. "All  great  performers  go  abroad,  so  put 
that  in  your  dream  book  of  the  future — only.  I 
must  stipulate,"  she  added,  immediately,  "to  go 
with  you,  either  as  companion,  or  lady's  maid, 
or—" 

A  gesture  of  distress,  and  a  pair  of  troubled  eyes 
appealed  to  her. 

"Oh,  don't  talk  that  way,  Anne  dear.  It  hurts 
me.  You  to  go  as  companion  or  lady's  maid,  to 
poor  insignificant  little  me,  a  dependent.  I  really 
feel  like  that,  I  do,  indeed;  I  wish  I  could  pay  for 
everything,"  she  went  on,  passionately.  "If  it 
weren't  that  I  know,  sometime  I  shall  pay  it  all 
back,  I  couldn't  bear  it,  I  should  die." 

"Why,  Marie!"  Anne  exclaimed,  "I  was  only  in 
fun.  I  meant  when  you  will  be  a  brilliant  per- 
former, with  a  foreign  name,  perhaps,  and  have  all 
the  world  running  after  you.  Don't  you  see  that 
I  shall  be  a  nobody  then?  But  we  won't  talk  of 
that,  if  it  hurts  you  so.  And  you  mustn't  consider 
yourself  a  dependent.  Cousin  Selina  would  feel 
dreadfully  if  she  knew  it." 

"Oh.  I'd  work  on  my  hands  and  knees  for  her," 

14 


206  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

said  Marie,  her  eyes  shining  with  tears.  "She  is — 
well,  there's  but  one  word  expresses  it — heavenly. 
I  love  her  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul.  It  makes 
people  good  to  be  with  her." 

"She's  the  sweetest,  dearest  woman,"  said  Anne, 
smiling,  as  she  folded  up  her  letter.  "How  beau- 
tifully she  has  taken  care  of  brother  Ralph.  The 
dear  fellow  would  have  died  in  the  hospital,  he 
hates  it  so.  I  am  longing  for  him  to  get  well. 
You  know  that  when  I  am  of  age — of  course  you 
don't  know  it,  but  I  will  tell  you — I  come  into  a 
little  money,  only  a  few  thousands,  but  enough  to 
take  care  of  Ralph  and  myself.  I  can  buy  a  little 
cottage  in  the  country — oh,  I've  seen  just  the 
darling  home  I  would  like,  with  great  lines  of.  ever- 
green trees  around  it,  and  moss  growing  beside  the 
path,  and  swinging  grape-vines  in  the  yard — plenty 
of  room  for  flowers — and  the  sun  making  every- 
thing glitter — yes,  I've  seen  just  the  home  I  want. 
And  when  you  come  out  to  see  me,  you  shall  have 
cream  and  new  dairy  butter,  and  doughnuts,  for  I 
know  I  shall  be  a  famous  cook.  I  can  feel  it  in  my 
very  fingers.  I'll  keep  one  dear  little  room  for  you 
and  have  it  as  white  as  fairy  snow — and  call  it 
'Marie's  Room' — unless  you  get  to  be  so  very 


REPENTANCE  AND  FORGIVENESS  207 

famous  that  you  won't  care  to  visit  such  humble 
quarters" — here  a  hand  was  held  fairly  over  Anne's 
mouth,  and  the  two  girls,  after  a  merry  little  laugh, 
kissed  each  other. 

"I'll  never  want  to  be  famous,"  pouted  Marie, 
"if  it's  going  to  estrange  me  from  my  friends." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  PROFESSOR'S  PROPOSITION. 

"The  advantage,  on  the  whole,  is  more  on  my 
side  than  it  is  her's,  for  I  have  a  perfect  passion  for 
leading  genius — I  hardly  dare  say,  teaching  it." 

It  was  the  professor  who  spoke.  The  hunchback 
had  gone  on  his  morning  rounds,  and  the  room 
with  its  massive  furniture  and  rich  hangings  looked 
fit  for  the  occupation  of  a  prince. 

"I  certainly  am  glad  you  are  taking  an  interest 
in  little  Marie.  It  seemed  to  me  from  the  first  that 
she  was  no  ordinary  child.  You  have  heard  of 
course  that  she  had  good  parentage/'  said  Cousin 
Selina. 

"Ah,  you  knew  her  then,"  the  professor  ex- 
claimed, a  sudden  light  showing  in  his  keen,  hand- 
some face.  "You — you  knew  her  father,  perhaps, 
and  her  mother." 

Cousin  Selina  shook  her  head  till  the  fluffy  white 
curls  clustered  closer  on  her  comely  forehead. 

(208) 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   PROPOSITION  209 

"Oh,  no, — I  know  nothing  about  her  except 
what  she  has  told  me,  that  her  father  and  mother 
were  Swiss,  by  birth — that  her  mother  was  a 
teacher  in  her  own  country,  and  her  father  a  carver 
of  dainty  clocks,  watch-cases  and  easels.  Beside 
that  he  played  the  violin,  and  that  is  how  she 
acquired  her  taste  for  music." 

"Ah!"  the  professor  drew  a  long  breath.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  floor  for  some  seconds. 
When  he  looked  up  they  glittered  suspiciously — 
there  was  in  them  the  moisture  of  tears. 

"I  had  once  a  child  like  that,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "and  strangely,  too,  her  name  was  Marie. 
In  her  infancy  we  called  her  'Sweetest,'  and  the 
pet  name  clung  to  her.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  was 
startled  when  this  child  also  answered  to  the  pretty 
pseudonym?  I  declare  it  seems  marvellous,"  and 
he  smiled,  throwing  off  the  momentary  look  of 
care,  or  it  might  be  trouble,  that  had  almost  sad- 
dened her.  "Well,"  he  went  on,  "we  will  go  back 
to  business.  Business  is  a  stupid  word,  isn't  it? 
but  so  necessary,  even  between  friends.  If  I  under- 
stand the  matter,  this  girl  is  in  your  employ,  as  a 
servant."  The  word  seemed  to  taste  bitter,  for  he 


210  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

made  a  sort  of  grimace.  Cousin  Selina  answered 
eagerly : 

"Oh,  you  mistake,  entirely.  She  is  not  in  any 
sense  a  servant.  I  first  thought  of  it,  knowing 
that  as  my  family  is  small,  she  could  easily  do  my 
work;  but  though  she  is  a  diligent  and  willing  little 
creature,  I  saw  that  all  her  young  life  she  had 
labored  much  beyond  her  strength,  and  in  conse- 
quence is  extremely  delicate,  so  she  only  takes 
charge  of  certain  things,  and  is  treated  as  a  member 
of  my  family.  My  neice,  who  is  staying  with  me, 
is  teaching  her,  and  finds  her  wise  beyond  her 
years.  She  is  greatly  interested  in  study,  and  I 
have  grown  to  love  her  as  if  she  were  a  daughter  of 
my  own.  I  don't  know  how  I  should  get  along 
without  Marie" — she  smiled,  looking  away  beyond 
as  if  she  saw  in  the  distance  the  gentle  face  of  some 
fair  angel. 

"You  are  a  good  woman/'  said  the  professor, 
and  his  voice  shook  a  little.  "And  let  me  prophesy 
that  this  lonely  little  girl  whom  you  have  taken  to 
your  heart,  though  a  stranger,  will  yet  be  to  you  a 
delight  and  a  blessing.  Let  me  further  say  that  she 
has  powerful  friends  both  in  this  world  and  the 
other.  I  am  very  superstitious,  my  acquaintances 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   PROPOSITION  211 

say,  though  they  have  no  warrant,  save  that  I 
believe  in  heaven  and  ministering  spirits,  in  the 
way  the  Bible  teaches.  I  happen  to  be  old-fash- 
ioned enough  to  read  my  Bible" — he  smiled.  "I 
intend  to  make  this  child  self-supporting.  It  shall 
not  be  my  fault  if  she  is  not  the  wonder  of  the  age. 
Even  in  the  few  lessons  she  has  taken  she  betrays 
the  possession  of  unusual  ability.  She  loves  the 
instrument  with  an  abiding  love.  Nothing  is  too 
hard  for  her,  she  has  unbounded  confidence  in 
herself,  but  does  not  know  it,  yet.  In  fine,  she  has 
all  the  qualities  of  a  first-class  virtuoso,  and  yet  is 
as  modest  and  humble  as  a  saint.  I  have  never 
seen  such  a  character" — he  paused,  and  then  added 
in  a  more  subdued  tone,  "but  once;"  then  drew  a 
long  sigh. 

Cousin  Selina  moved  her  chair.  The  conference 
had  been  of  his  seeking,  yet  she  knew  he  was  a 
very  busy  man,  with  but  little  time  to  spare.  He 
stood  up  as  she  did,  with  fine  courtesy. 

"Then  it  is  understood  that  she  can  take  all  the 
time  she  wants,"  he  said. 

"Certainly,"  was  the  frank  response. 

"I  may  have  her  for  two  hours  at  a  time,"  he 
went  on. 


212  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Or  for  three,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"But  then  what  will  you  do  without  her  help?" 
he  asked. 

"I  have  arranged  that,"  was  the  answer.  "There 
is  an  old  servant  down  stairs,  an  old  family  servant 
who  has  but  little  to  do,  and  Miss  Jack — or  Miss 
Jacquelina,  as  I  should  call  her,  has  arranged  with 
me  to  keep  the  old  woman  busy.  She,  on  her  part, 
is  delighted,  for  she  is  very  unhappy  when  she  has 
time  to  be  idle,  so  we  shall  all  help  each  other." 

"I  am  glad  to  be  in  so  busy  a  hive,"  the  professor 
said,  with  quiet  emphasis.  "It  gives  zest  to  any 
labor,  for  I  am  never  without  work  on  hand,  either 
in  composition  or  teaching.  Idle  I  never  can.  I 
think  I  should  die  if  I  could  not  be  busy  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  All  is  settled  then,  and  I  wish  you 
good  morning.  But,  oh,  there  is  a  little  thing  you 
have  forgotten,"  he  went  on  with  an  arch  glance, 
and  the  grace  of  manner  for  which  he  was  famous. 

She  turned  her  soft  eyes  upon  him,  not  without 
surprise,  as  the  pink  mounted  into  her  cheeks. 

"You  have  not  asked  me  to  come  down  now  and 
then  and  play  to  your  sick  nephew" — and  his  voice 
was  mellow  with  feeling. 

"Oh,  I  did  not    dare,"  laughed    Cousin  Selina, 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   PROPOSITION  213 

losing  at  once  the  constraint  which  she  had  always 
felt  in  his  presence,  for  his  face  was  now  illumined 
with  feeling.  "You  are  a  great  professor,  you 
know,  and  we  are  only  humble  folk.  Why — will 
you?  I  am  sure  I  should  be  so  happy !  We  should 
all  be  so  happy,  especially  poor  Ralph,  who  often 
strains  his  ears  to  listen." 

"I'll  come  with  pleasure.  I  was 'only  waiting  for 
an  invitation,"  he  laughed,  mellowly,  as  he  followed 
her  and  held  the  door  open,  then  bowed  her  good- 
bye, his  eyes  twinkling  still  as  he  thought  of  her 
surprise. 

"I  never  saw  a  handsomer  man,  or  a  statelier," 
said  Cousin  Selina  to  herself  in  the  innocence  and 
honesty  of  her  heart,  as  she  went  smilingly  down 
stairs.  "He  is  as  one  might  suppose  the  old 
cavaliers  might  have  been  in  mediaeval  times. 
One  reads  about  them  but  seldom  sees  their  coun- 
terpart." 

The  professor  turned  back  from  the  door,  his 
countenance  a  thorough  contrast  to  what  it  had 
been.  It  was  as  though  melancholy  had  marked 
him  for  its  own.  Back  and  forth,  back  and  forth, 
like  some  restless  animal,  he  walked  the  length  of 
the  room,  his  lips  moving,  his  eyes  fixed  and  unsee- 


214  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

ing — his  whole  appearance  that  of  a  man  followed 
by  some  consuming  desire,  or  the  shadow  of  an 
unexpiated  deed  of  violence.  It  was  not  till  the 
Italian  Jock  came  in  with  a  message  that  he  con- 
trolled himself.  He  read  the  note  placed  in  his 
hand,  and  then  muttered : 

"I  have  told  the  public  that  I  have  not  strength 
enough  to  give  much  attention  to  pupils,  and  yet 
they  keep  coming." 

"That  is  because  you  are  so  good  a  teacher, 
master,"  said  the  man  with  a  shrug. 

"How  often  have  I  told  you  not  to  call  me 
master,"  said  the  professor,  with  some  show  of 
asperity, 

"But,  are  you  not  my  master  in  every  thing?"  the 
Italian  asked.  "We  of  our  nation  know  where  we 
stand.  It  does  not  humiliate  us  to  call  our  supe- 
riors master.  How  can  I  help  it?  Have  you  not 
taught  me  everything  I  know?  Was  I  not  a  poor 
penniless  boy,  knocked  about  from  pillar  to  post 
with  my  poor,  broken  little  hand  organ,  when  you 
rescued  me,  because,  you  say  I  have  dark  skin  and 
a  miserable  little  organ,  and  a  hump  on  my  back?" 

"Oh,  nonsense,  don't  talk  about  those  times," 
said  the  professor,  but  his  mouth  was  smiling. 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   PROPOSITION  215 

"Yes,  just  this  once,  and  then  I  hold  my  tongue," 
said  the  man.  "I  thought  about  it  today  when  I 
saw  one  miserable  man  of  my  country  grinding  out 
the  opera  music  of  'La  Sonambula.'  It  was  a  better 
organ  than  mine,  but  it  set  me  to  thinking  how 
wretched  I  was  at  that  time  when  you  came  along 
and  I  happened  to  be  singing  an  Italian  song,  a 
foolish  little  thing." 

"It  was  your  pretty  face  that  took  me,  boy," 
laughed  the  professor. 

"You  are  kind  to  say  it,  but  whatever  it  was,  it 
won  me  my  master.  And  when  I  came  to  be  your 
boy,  and  you  found  out  I  had  a  little  talent  for  the 
piano,  did  you  not,  day  and  night  work  over  me, 
till  I  could  read  the  music?" 

"That  was  for  my  own  good,  you  silly  fellow," 
responded  the  other.  "I  wanted  you  to  play  my 
accompaniments.  Think  what  it  would  have  cost 
you  if—" 

The  hunchback  snapped  his  fingers. 

"Do  not  I  see  that  you  care  nothing  for  money, 
that  you  have  all  of  it  you  want,  and  more!  No, 
it  was  not  that,,  it  was  for  good  alone,  only  good. 
You  wanted  to  help  the  poor  outcast  at  which  even 
children  sneered.  You  knew  I  was  a  poor  cripple 


216  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

and  your  soul  helped  me.  Now  I  am  your  willing 
slave ;  I  would  work  my  ringers  to  the  bone  to  serve 
you." 

"Well,  just  at  present,  Jock,  work  your  fingers 
to  this  little  accompaniment  I  composed  this  morn- 
ing," and  the  professor  lifted  his  Strad,  whose 
polished  yellow  surface  seemed  the  incarnation  of 
prisoned  sunshine. 

The  hunchback,  who  might  have  been  anywhere 
from  the  age  of  twenty-one  to  forty-one,  sat  down 
at  the  instrument,  joyously,  and  played  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  which  he  was  master,  while  the  violin 
answered  with  a  symphony  of  unusual  beauty.  The 
rich  notes  rang  out  and  floated  above,  below, 
wherever  the  atmosphere  caught  their  vibrations, 
till  all  the  air  seemed  made  up  of  sweet  sounds, 
snatches  of  melody  that  rose  and  fell  with  each 
poise  of  the  bow,  each  movement  of  the  master's 
hand.  As  if  satisfied  with  the  result,  the  professor 
stood  for  a  while  pulling  the  strings  in  short 
stacatto,  and  smilingly  humming  to  himself. 

"It  is  time  for  the  signoria  to  come,"  said  the 
hunchback,  looking  at  the  clock,  and  almost  at  that 
minute  came  a  rap  on  the  door. 


THE   PROFESSOR'S    PROPOSITION  217 

"Ah !  there  she  is,"  and  the  master's  face  bright- 
ened, as  the  door  opened  and  Marie  came  forward 
bearing  in  her  arms  that  same  shining  instrument 
that  had  so  excited  her  admiration  months  before, 
in  the  music  shop  window. 

"Now  we  will  have  a  good  time,"  said  the 
master,  heartily,  as  he  faced  the  new  pupil. 

There  was  no  need  to  ask  if  Marie  responded. 
The  light  in  her  eyes,  the  dimples  in  her  cheeks  told 
the  story.  Every  moment  of  her  practice  had  been 
a  delight.  Sometimes  she  could  hardly  go  on  for 
the  longing  to  drink  in  some  tender  sound  so  like 
the  rich  voicing  of  a  human  throat. 

She  was  quite  at  home,  now  in  the  master's  pres- 
ence,, having  become  accustomed  to  his  masterly 
sway,  which  was  almost  imperious.  She  felt  at 
home  with  the  splendid  surroundings.  She  had  a 
half  worshipful  love  for  the  man  who  seemed  to 
her  like  some  kingly  presence,  and  her  highest 
ambition  was  to  win  his  approval.  As  for  him, 
never  had  he  taught  a  pupil  who  responded  so 
readily,  who  was  so  teachable,  and  who  understood. 

"She  comprehends  as  by  magic,"  he  often  said 
to  himself.  "It  is  as  if  she  had  the  principle  of 
melody  written  on  her  brain.  It  is  wonderful." 


218  THE   YELLOW   VIOLIN 

She  already  knew  the  scale  by  heart,  and  could 
read  with  ease,  for  her  mother  had  taught  her  the 
rudiments  of  harmony  long  before  her  illness. 

The  hunchback  was  busy  behind  a  gold  embroid- 
ered screen,  setting  out  a  table  with  grapes  and 
small  honey  cakes,  and  grape  juice  (the  latter  the 
professor  made  himself),  for  after  the  lesson  Marie 
always  had  a  treat,  and  she  looked  forward  to  it  as 
the  final  wind-up  to  her  work  with  almost  childish 
pleasure. 

"You  have  had  a  good  lesson  today,"  he  said,  as 
the  two  sat  down  at  the  little  table.  "Now  tell  me 
what  have  you  been  doing  since  last  Wednesday?" 
Marie  took  two  lessons  a  week. 

"Practicing/'  she  answered  with  a  smile. 

"Not  all  the  time.  I  would  not  allow  that,"  was 
his  answer. 

"Oh,  no,  not  all  the  time,  for  some  days  it  cramps 
my  fingers.  Well,  I  have  sewed,  made  some  patch- 
work, helped  the  dear  lady,  and  read  to  the  sick 
boy.  I  really  don't  think  I  am  idle  a  moment,"  she 
said. 

"Honestly,  I  believe  not,"  and  he  laid  a  bunch  of 
purple  grapes  on  her  plate.  "And  how  is  the  sick 
boy?" 


THE   PROFESSOR'S   PROPOSITION  219 

"He  is  getting  on  very  slowly,  Cousin  Selina 
says.  Sometimes  she  thinks  if  he  could  go  to  the 
country  he  would  recover  sooner." 

"Ah,  perhaps.  Well,  yes,  it  would  be  a  good 
thing.  And  does  he  wish  it?" 

"Oh,  very  much,"  said  Marie,  daintily  sipping 
from  her  wine  glass,  "and  his  sister,  Miss  Anne, 
wishes  it  more  than  any  of  us." 

"A  very  nice  girl,  Miss  Anne  seems,"  said  Pro- 
fessor Castelin. 

"She  is  lovely,"  was  Marie's  response.  "She 
doesn't  mind  how  much  I  practice,  when  some- 
times I  think  she  must  get  tired." 

"And  why  does  the  little  lady  not  go  into  the 
country?"  asked  the  master. 

"I — don't  believe  she  can  afford  it,"  said  Marie, 
putting  down  her  grapes.  "Oh,  how  nice  it  must 
be  to  be  rich !  I  wish  I  were  rich." 

"Pray  what  would  you  do  if  you  were  rich?"  was 
the  next  question,  as  the  master  leisurely  picked  at 
his  grapes. 

"Why,  the  first  thing  would  be  to  buy  a  little 
cottage  in  the  country  for  Cousin  Selina,"  was  the 
eager  response.  "It  should  have  a  garden  and  an 
orchard,  and  I  would  get  hens  and  chickens  and  a 


220  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

cow — oh,  and  a  carriage  for  Ralph  to  ride  about  in. 
I  am  sure  he  would  soon  get  well." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  a  horse  would  be  desirable 
also,"  he  said,  quizzingly. 

"Oh,  of  course — the  carriage  wouldn't  go  of 
itself,"  she  said,  laughing. 

"And  what  for  yourself?"  the  professor  asked, 
with  smiling  eyes. 

"Well,  I  haven't  thought,"  was  the  slow  answer. 
"The  fact  is  I  shouldn't  really  want  anything, 
should  I,  for  I  would  be  with  Anne  and  Ralph  and 
Cousin  Selina,  and  seeing  their  happiness  would 
make  me  happy." 

"And  how  about  the  violin  and  my  lessons?"  he 
asked. 

"Oh,  mercy,  I  never  thought  of  that,"  cried 
Marie  with  something  like  absolute  terror  in  her 
eyes  and  voice. 

"I  only  asked  for  information,"  said  the  master 
grimly. 

"And  I  talked  without  reflection,"  she  said  dis- 
tressfully. 

"I  wonder  then  how  we  can  manage  it?"  he  went 
on,  pretending  not  to  notice  her  embarrassment. 
"It  might  be  in  this  way.  I,  for  instance,  am  the 


THE   PROFESSOR'S    PROPOSITION  221 

owner  of  a  very  nice  farm  in  the  suburbs.  Suppose 
it  to  be  a  bargain,  and  I  place  it  under  the  supervis- 
ion of  an  old  man,  who  is  without  home  and  work. 
We  are  only  supposing,  you  know.  The  little  farm 
happens  to  be  well  stocked.  There  are  horses  and 
there  are  cows,  there  are  hens  and  chickens  and 
rabbits,  besides  all  sorts  of  feathered  pets.  I  ask 
our  little  lady — I  wonder  if  I  should  dare? — if  I 
could  get  up  the  courage? — to  take  care  of  this 
country  home  for  me,  for  I  shall  be  there  two  days 
in  the  week,  to  get  the  fresh  air,  and  give  lessons  to 
a  bright  little  girl  I  know,  and — oh/' 

Marie  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 
Was  she  crying? 

Presently  the  girl  looked  up.  There  were  tears 
in  her  eyes. 

"It  all  seems  like  a  dream/'  she  said,  "'like  a 
beautiful  dream." 

15 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BIDDING  FOR  A  FARM. 

"But  a  dream  that  might  be  realized,"  said  the 
professor.  "Since  my  illness  I  have  been  foolish 
enough  to  fear  that  my  strength  is  not  returning  as 
it  should.  I  have  to  a  certain  extent  given  up 
teaching,  but  the  weakness  of  nerve  and  muscle 
still  hangs  on.  My  doctor  tells  me  that  I  must 
thoroughly  recuperate,  and  that  this  cannot  be 
done  in  the  city.  Well,  then,  common  sense  says 
if  you  are  tired  of  work  get  a  plaything  to  amuse 
yourself  with.  What  better  plaything  than  a  small 
cottage  with  an  acre  or  two?  Then  I  could  come 
out  every  evening  and  breathe  the  fresh  air,  and 
remain  for  two  days  out  of  the  seven.  Why,  I 
feel  better  already,  stronger,  for  talking  about  it." 

"It  would  be  beautiful,"  said  Marie,  smiling, 
"but — but — I  don't  believe  Cousin  Selina  would 
like  it." 

"And   why    not,    pray?"  he  asked,    with   wider 

opened  eyes. 
(222) 


BIDDING    FOR   A   FARM  223 

"Because  she  is  so — so — very  .independent,"  was 
Marie's  response. 

"Ah,  Sweetest  Marie,  she  may  be  just  as  inde- 
pendent as  she  likes,  so  that  she  does  not  separate 
us" — he  returned,  in  a  low  passionate  voice,  then  as 
the  girl  looked  her  wonder  at  his  earnestness,  he 
said: 

"It  would  indeed  be  a  cruelty  to  you,  a  cruelty 
to  me,  just  now  when  you  are  improving  as  you 
are.  Properly,  one  should  begin  the  study  of  the 
violin  at  six  years  of  age — and  you  are  sixteen, 
therefore  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost — no,  not  even 
a  day.  That  is  what  I  meant  when  I  said  it  would 
be  a  cruelty.  I  have  great  hopes,  great  expecta- 
tions— well,  well,  there  is  time  enough.  Tell  your 
excellent  friend,  Cousin  Selina,  that  I  shall  do 
myself  the  honor  to  play  for  her  tonight,  and  for 
the  young  man,  the  invalid.  As  for  the  farm  we'll 
waive  that  for  the  present." 

The  matter  was  destined  to  be  waived  for  a  much 
longer  time,  for  Cousin  Selina  quite  unconsciously 
solved  the  problem  of  a  country  life  for  herself. 
That  same  evening  she  went  out  for  Ralph's  medi- 
cine. 

"I  shall  be  back,  probably  before  the  professor 


224  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

comes  down,"  she  said,  "for  I  am  as  anxious  as  any 
of  you,  to  hear  him  play."  So  she  hurriedly  left 
and  soon  entered  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the 
few  drug  stores  in  the  neighborhood. 

She  was  very  weary,  for  she  had  walked  more 
than  usual  that  day,  and  somewhat  dispirited. 
Ralph  had  seemed  more  feeble,  and  though  during 
the  past  week  he  had  ventured  out  more  than  once, 
yet  today  he  had  complained  of  weakness  and  had 
remained  at  home.  Anne,  too,  missing  her  usual 
summer  outing,  was  looking  pale  and  losing  flesh. 
There  seemed  to  be  less  sympathy  than  ever 
between  her  and  Ralph,  and  Cousin  Selina,  anxious 
for  all,  was  at  her  wits  end  what  to  do.  But  worse 
still,  than  that,  money  was  becoming  scarce.  By 
selling  a  few  stocks  here  and  there,  she  might  be 
able  to  realize  enough  to  tide  her  over,  at  present; 
but  what  about  the  future? 

If  she  realized  on  her  small  principal  now  and 
then  it  would  soon  be  gone  and  poverty  would 
stare  her  in  the  face. 

"I'll  trust  in  Providence,"  she  kept  saying  to  her- 
self, and  no  one  could  have  a  more  tender  and 
abiding  faith  than  she. 

As  she  stood  leaning  against  the  counter,  two 


225 

gentlemen  walked  leisurely  in.  One  of  them,  stout 
of  figure  and  comfortable  in  manner,  talked  with  a 
loud  voice  and  much  gesticulation;  the  other 
appeared,  to  listen  with  interest. 

"Yes,"  said  the  large  man,  continuing  the  con- 
versation, "I  hate  to  see  such  good  land  going  to 
waste.  The  land  is  excellent,  the  house  handsome 
and  convenient,  and  partly  furnished.  I  knew  there 
were  several  heavy  things  John  wouldn't  take 
away  because  they  were  old  fashioned.  It  is  almost 
a  pity  that  the  fortune  ever  came  to  the  fellow. 
Turned  his  head  completely." 

''How  many  acres?"  asked  the  other. 

"Twenty,  under  good  cultivation,  and  as  much 
again  in  wood  lots,"  was  the  answer,  "Good 
springs,  too,  best  of  water  right  at  the  kitchen 
door,  a  first  rate  apple  orchard,  in  fact  every  requis- 
ite for  running  as  fine  a  farm  as  there  is  in  all 
Maine." 

"And  you  say  it  will  be  placed  in  the  hands  of 
anyone  who  has  a  mind  to  go  in  and  cultivate  it, 
free  of  charge." 

"Entirely,  better  that  than  to  let  it  go  to  rack 
and  ruin.  John  doesn't  care — he  has  all  he  wants, 
but  I  rather  think  he  dreads  to  see  it  run  down 


226  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Why,  bless  my  heart,  if  I  was  a  young  man,  I 
wouldn't  ask  a  better  fortune,  and  as  for  a  living, 
why  one  is  dead  sure  of  that,  and  needn't  half  try, 
either." 

The  other  man  gave  an  assenting  nod. 

"There's  health,  good  soil,  a  comfortable  home, 
everything  one  needs.  But  young  men  now-a- 
days  are  all  after  city  work,"  the  speaker  went  on, 
"and  coop  themselves  up  in  seven  by  nine  offices 
for  the  most  meager  salaries — anything  for  a  city 
life  with  its  questionable  attractions  that  lead  so 
many  to  ruin.  I  would  go  down  there  myself  to 
spend  the  summer,  but  it's  not  fashionable  enough 
for  the  madam  and  the  daughters." 

"Well,  if  I  see  anybody  that  would  like  such  a 
place,"  said  his  companion,  passing  one  hand 
thoughtfully  over  his  gray-beared  chin,  "I'll  speak 
about  it.  Deserted  farms  sound  unpleasantly,  you 
know.  Good  evening." 

"Won't  you  have  a  soda?"  asked  the  big  man. 

"No  thanks,"  was  the  reply,  and  he  was  gone. 

Meantime  Cousin  Selina  listened  intently,  and 
with  all  her  wits  about  her.  Here,  perhaps  was  her 
opportunity,  and  it  had  occurred  seemingly  for  her 
sole  benefit.  She  had  read  something  about  the 


BIDDING   FOR   A  FARM  227 

deserted  farms  of  Maine,  and  the  matter  had  for  her 
an  intense  fascination.  Overcoming  her  natural 
timidity  where  strangers  were  concerned,  she  at 
once  determined  to  break  the  silence  while  the  big 
man  stood  gazing  complacently  into  the  shining 
show-case  at  the  bottles,  brushes  and  gay'  para- 
phernalia that  sparkled  under  its  glass  roof.  She 
moved  quietly  to  his  side. 

"Did  I  understand  you  to  say,  sir,  that  there  is  a 
vacant  farm  that  can  be  had  for  the  care  of  it?"  she 
asked. 

He  looked  into  the  sweet  face  with  its  fluffy 
fringing  of  silver  curls  that  made  a  halo  about  it. 
His  heart  was  suddenly  stirred  by  the  memories  of 
other  days,  for  she  reminded  him  of  his  mother, 
long  ago  dead,  that  was  more  than  one  point  in  her 
favor. 

"Yes,  madam,"  he  answered,  with  a  new  interest. 
"My  nephew  owns  it.  A  very  pretty  place  it  is, 
too,  with  plenty  of  fine  land  ready  for  the  plough. 
The  young  man  was  very  prosperous  there  till  an 
uncle  died  and  left  him  a  fortune.  After  that  he 
preferred  the  city  and  left  the  farm.  Of  course  a 
place  will  run  down  if  neglected,  and  no  one  has 
had  full  charge  of  it  for  a  year." 


228  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Why  couldn't  a  woman  take  it?"  she  asked, 
almost  breathless  at  the  thought. 

"Why,  sure  enough,"  he  responded,  smiling. 
"To  be  sure  the  place  is  neglected,  but  not  totally. 
The  man  who  takes  care  of  it  now  is  quite  old,  and 
only  able  to  half  attend  to  matters.  There  are 
crops,  no  doubt,  ready  to  harvest  if  there  were 
intelligence  and  youth  to  help.  There  is  fruit  in 
abundance — grapes — hundreds  of  bushels.  Of 
course  a  woman  could  take  it,"  he  went  on 
smilingly,  warming  up  to  the  subject  as  he  traced 
again  in  the  lineaments  before  him  that  strange 
likeness  to  his  mother.  "If  I  owned  the  farm  I, 
should  prefer  that  a  woman  should  take  it.  She 
needn't  work  very  hard,  either.  There  are  plenty 
of  men  near  the  place  who  could  plough  and  do 
all  the  extra  hard  work.  It's  a  fine  place,  madam, 
though,  no  doubt,  a  little  run  down." 

"Where  is  it,  sir?"  she  further  questioned,  alive 
to  the  future  possibilities  of  existence  to  her  finger 
tips,  her  face  bright  with  new  and  pleasurable  emo- 
tions as  she  thought  of  her  invalid  charge. 

The  gentleman  mentioned  the  familiar  name  of  a 
village  in  the  state  of  Maine. 

"It's  in  rather  an  out  of  the  way  location,"  he 


BIDDING   FOR  A   FARM  229 

went  on,  "but  you  can  get  everything  you  need  in 
a  short  ride  to  the  city.  My  nephew  owns  the 
place,  as  I  said,  and  he  will  be  very  glad  to  get  a 
tenant." 

"But  how  do  I  know  but  after  I  have  taken  pos- 
session, and  everything  is  under  cultivation,  I 
might  be  required  to  give  it  up?" 

"Make  yourself  perfectly  easy  as  to  that,  madam. 
I  am  quite  sure  the  owner  will  never  take  it  again. 
He  has  sons  and  daughters  to  educate,  and  they 
none  of  them  have  a  love  for  the  country.  I  be- 
lieve you  can  count  upon  many  years  of  possession 
and  in  time  buy  it,  perhaps  on  your  own  terms." 

"Then,  sir,  I'll  take  it,"  she  said  promptly.  "Are 
there  any  papers  to  be  made  out?" 

"We  will  attend  to  all  that  if  you  will  call  at  my 
office,"  and  he  gave  her  his  card.  "I  am  very  glad 
a  woman  is  going  to  run  the  place,  for  my  experi- 
ence is  that  sensible  women  make  good  farmers." 

"I  can  at  least  try,"  said  the  little  woman,  as  she 
took  the  card,  and  the  prescription  handed  her  by 
the  druggist,  and  hurried  on  her  way  home. 

Various  emotions  assailed  her  as  she  passed  into 
the  well  lighted  street.  Had  she  been  wise?  Had 
she  allowed  her  heart  to  get  the  upper  hand  as 


230  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

usual,  and  how  could  she  still  manage  her  business? 
The  room  beautiful  had  been  her  home  for  nearly 
twenty  years.  Many  sweet  memories  clustered 
about  it — she  had  been  very  happy  there.  And 
then  it  was  for  a  stranger,  this  sacrifice.  But  was 
it  a  sacrifice?  Her  heart  beat  fast  as  she  conjured 
up  her  green  valleys,  the  far  hills,  the  fields  and  the 
trees.  She  was  forced  to  acknowledge  to  herself 
that  there  might  be  more  than  a  grain  of  selfishness 
in  her  longing  for  the  change.  To  live  among 
country  sights  and  sounds  had  been  her  one 
ambition  for  years. 

.Some  writer  says  that  at  forty  the  feelings  are  not 
so  strong  as  at  twenty.  She  had  just  passed  her 
fortieth  birthday,  and  she  said  to  herself  that  her 
feelings  had  never  been  so  strong,  her  longings  so 
intense,  for  a  home  that  she  could  call  her  own. 
There  was  certainly  some  extravagance  in  her  con- 
ception of  the  situation,  but  it  was  of  a  blameless- 
sort. 

When  she  entered  the  room  beautiful,  it  was 
partly  in  shadow.  Ralph  looked  up  eagerly,  as  he 
always  did  on  her  entrance.  He  sat  in  the  big  easy 
chair  and  Anne  had  drawn  a  hassock  near  and 
established  herself  at  his  feet.  Sweetest  Marie  sat 


BIDDING   FOR  A  FARM  231 

near  the  table  on  which  laid  several  sheets  of  music, 
and  the  professor  stood  some  little  distance  away, 
in  an  attitude  of  deep  thought,  his  bow  still  resting 
on  the  strings  of  the  yellow  Stracl. 

"Oh,  Cousin  Selina,  we  have  been  hearing  such 
delicious  music !"  Anne  exclaimed,  as  the  little 
woman  came  within  the  circle  of  light.  "You  never 
heard  anything  like  it." 

"I  dare  say,"  was  Cousin  Selina's  answer,  as  she 
carefully  untied  her  bonnet  strings,  "but  now  that  I 
have  returned,  perhaps  the  master  has  in  reserve  a 
few  sweet  tones  for  me." 

"Indeed  I  have,"  said  the  professor,  "as  many  as 
you  will.  I  find  myself  for  the  first  time  for  years 
in  the  center  of  a  family  circle.  You  must  let  me 
thank  you  for  this.  I  have  long  been  denied  the 
privilege  of  visiting  a  real  home,  and  to  feel  myself 
appreciated  by  such  an  audience  makes  me  prouder 
than  when  I  appear  before  thousands.  Ah,  I  have 
just  caught  the  Largo,  for  which  I  have  been 
searching  my  memory;"  and  he  drew  the  bow 
along  the  strings  with  a  lightly  rippling  motion  and 
the  instrument  answered  in  unison  with  his  thought 
till  the  delicious  melody  filled  all  the  room,  then 
grew  broader  and  stronger  under  the  power- 


232  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

ful  touch.  Air  after  air  he  brought  out,  filled  with 
soft  cadenzas,  delicate  trills,  tender  thought,  until 
his  hearers  became  ecstatic,  and  praised  him  with 
words  and  hands. 

"It  is  like  a  living  voice,"  said  Cousin  Selina, 
whose  nature,  she  was  wont  to  say  of  herself,  was 
tuned  to  the  minor  key. 

Ralph  sat  smiling  and  happy.  No  matter  what 
his  past  had  been — he  put  that  out  of  his  mind,  as 
well  as  the  future,  which  was  still  uncertain ;  tonight 
rje  had  his  fill  of  joy.  Never  before  had  he  been  so 
moved  by  the  concord  of  sweet  sounds.  It  was  as 
if  a  new  world  opened  before  him  and  all  the  better 
emotions  of  his  nature  were  stirred.  Cousin  Selina 
sat,  listening,  her  hands  folded,  her  eyes  intent  on 
the  bow  that  glided  and  danced  according  to  the 
will  of  the  necromancer,  forward  and  back,  round 
and  round. 

She  noted  anew  the  soft  classic  contour  of  his 
features,  the  whiteness  of  his  hands,  the  elegance 
and  precision  with  which  he  was  dressed,  for  the 
violinist  had  arrayed  himself  as  for  a  concert  room, 
in  his  best  of  broadcloth  and  fine  linen,  and  made, 
as  he  always  did  in  full  dress,  a  striking  picture, 
princely  in  all  his  movements. 


BIDDING    FOR  A   FARM  233 

It  was  the  most  delightful  entertainment,  they 
all  declared  that  they  had  ever  enjoyed,  and  indeed 
the  artist  himself  entranced  to  the  utmost,  in  every 
touch  of  his  magic  bow.  Never  had  he  played  with 
more  freshness  and  feeling.  The  most  ardent 
applause  of  the  crowd  could  not  have  drawn  from 
him  such  fervor  of  imagination,  such  miracles  of 
technique,  for  he  was  in  thorough  sympathy  with 
his  audience,  and  at  peace  with  himself.  All  day 
he  had  been  moody  at  times  and  indolent  of  exer- 
tion, but  now  he  was  nerved  up  to  the  best  that 
was  in  him. 

"Do  you  wonder  that  people  say  he  is  a  noble- 
man in  disguise?"  Anne  asked,  as  after  a  genuine 
good-night  hand-shaking,  he  went  up  stairs  to  his 
room. 

Marie  noticed  that  the  flower  he  had  worn  in  his 
buttonhole  had  fallen  to  the  floor  and  made  haste 
to  possess  herself  of  it.  In  lifting  it  she  touched  it 
to  her  lips,  and  they  all  cried  out  and  began  to 
laugh. 

"Indeed  you  don't  know  how  much  I  love  him," 
she  said,  simply.  "My  father  was  no  nobleman, 
but  he  was  good  and  affectionate  or  my  mother 
would  not  have  loved  him  so  dearly,  and  the  master 


231  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

seems  to  me  just  like  my  own  father.  Oh,  don't 
I  wish  he  was?" 

''How  if  he  adopts  you?"  asked  Cousin  Selina. 

"Oh,  do  you  think  he  might?  Would  it  be  pos- 
sible for  him  to  do  so?"  asked  Marie,  glowing. 

"Not  only  possible,  but  wholly  probable,"  said 
the  little  woman,  "since  he  has  sent  me  for  several 
days  past  various  packages  for  his  adopted 
daughter." 

"Oh !"  cried  Marie,  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,"  did 
he  say  that  ?" 

"And  what  sort  of  packages  were  they,  Cousin 
Selina?"  asked  Anne. 

"I  should  imagine  different  things,"  said  the  little 
woman — "dresses,  and  shoes,  and  ribbons,  and 
laces,  which  I  am  to  give  you  for  a  birthday  present 
next  Tuesday." 

"I  ought  not  to  accept  them,"  said  Marie,  very 
decidedly. 

"Not  accept  birthday  presents!"  Anne  ex- 
claimed. "I  always  do,  and  the  more  the  merrier." 

"And  from  one  who  calls  you  his  adopted 
daughter,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  smiling. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT. 

"And  now/'  said  the  happy  little  woman,  as 
Marie  kept  silence,  still  looking  puzzled,  "I  don't 
believe  you  can,  any  of  you,  guess  what  I  have  been 
and  gone  and  done.  A  crisp  new  five  dollar  bill  to 
the  first  one  who  does." 

Anne  rose,  moved  to  action  by  the  sight  of  the 
money,,  she  clasped  her  hands,  gazing  intently  at 
Cousin  Selina. 

"You  look  so — heavenly !"  she  said,  with  girlish 
rapture — "it  must  be  something  that  has  made  you 
very  happy." 

"Happier  than  I  remember  to  have  been  for 
years,"  was  the  reply,  "and  it  concerns  you  all." 

"It  concerns  us  all,"  Anne  repeated,  thought- 
fully. "Have  any  of  the  aunties  opened  their  hearts 
and  given  you  lots  of  money?" 

Cousin  Selina  shook  her  wise  little  head.  Then 
her  glance  fell  on  Marie,  who  was  looking  very 

thoughtful. 

(235) 


236  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

"Who's  mind  is  off  on  a  long  journey?"  she 
asked. 

"Oh — I  was  thinking  hard,"  the  girl  re- 
sponded— "you  see,"  and  she  looked  up,  archly,  "I 
wanted  that  five  dollars." 

"Well,  guess,"  was  the  response. 

"You  have  found  out  who  the  professor  is,"  said 
Marie,  softly. 

"No — Ralph,  it  is  your  turn  to  guess  next." 

"I  give  it  up,"  was  Ralph's  answer. 

"Well" — and  the  little  woman  looked  beamingly 
about  her — "I  have  engaged  a  farm." 

"A  farm !"  Tt  was  a  united  ejaculation,  and 
every  eye  was  fastened  upon  her. 

"Yes,  children,  I  have  been  very  fortunate,"  she 
went  on,  as  Ralph  made  a  movement  in  his  chair, 
and  gazed  at  her  with  a  new  interest. 

"Yon  know  you  said  today,  Ralph,  that  you 
believed  you  would  soon  get  well  if  you  could 
breathe  the  pure  country  air." 

"Yes/'  he  answered,  confidently,  "I  know  it 
would  help  me.  I  worked  on  a  farm  \vhen  I  was  in 
Honolulu,  and  liked  it.  Anywhere  for  a  wider 
swathe." 

"Oh,  Cousin  Selina,  how  did  it  happen?"  asked 


WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT.          237 

Anne.     "And  I  have    been    longing  for  it  so!    A 
whole  farm  did  you  say?" 

"Yes,  a  place  that  will  give  us  all  a  chance,  for 
I  intend  to  make  the  change  very  soon.  I  shall 
attend  to  everything  relating  to  business  tomor- 
row." 

"Oh,  to  think  of  it !"  said  Anne,  in  a  sort  of 
rapture.  "The  country !  a  real  farm !  trees,  grass, 
flowers,  fruit,  hills,  fresh  milk,  cows,  horses,  pigs — 
it  will  be  like  paradise." 

"Pigs  in  Paradise !"  echoed  Ralph. 

"Your  classification  is  something  appalling," 
said  Cousin  Selina,  also  laughing  at  the  picture 
Anne  drew. 

"One  hardly  knows  which  would  be  most  essen- 
tial to  one's  happiness,  the  grass,  the  fruit,  the 
horses  or  the  pigs.  My  dear,  the  farm  is  not 
stocked  yet,  and  the  house  not  furnished,  though  I 
learned  that  there  was  some  furniture  there." 

"I'll  stock  it,"  said  Anne.  "Your  forget  that  I 
can  lay  my  hand  upon  a  little  money  if  I  will." 

"Everybody  looks  happy  but  Marie,"  said  Ralph. 

"Oh,  I  know,  she  is  thinking  of  her  music  les- 
sons." said  Anne. 
1C 


238  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Yes" — Cousin  Selina  hesitated — "I  forgot  the 
music." 

"And  you  know  she  is  getting  along  so  fast? 
What  will  the  professor  do?" 

"He  must  adopt  her,  then  she  can  stay  right  here 
with  him,"  said  Ralph. 

Marie  shook  her  head  and  crept  closer  to  Cousin 
Selina. 

"No,  we  can  think  of  something  better  for  our 
Sweetest  Marie  than  that,"  said  the  little  woman, 
quietly.  "The  professor  is  not  yet  wrell  from  his 
illness.  He  told  me  so.  He  said  there  was  nothing 
left  for  him  but  to  go  into  the  country  and  have  a 
complete  rest." 

Marie's  face  grew  brighter. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "he  told  me  he  wanted  to  buy  a 
country  place — oh — if — wouldn't  it  be  beautiful?" 

"Oh — if — what?"  questioned  Anne,  laughing. 
"If  he  should  go  with  us?" 

"That's  what  I  was  thinking,"  said  Marie,  who 
remembered  his  looks  and  his  manner  \vhen  he  was 
speaking  about  it.  "He  is  very  anxious  to  buy  a 
house  in  the  country  for  himself." 

"He  told  you  so?"  asked  Cousin  Selina. 

Marie  nodded. 


WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT          239 

"I  hope  he  will,"  the  little  woman  said.  "He  has 
plenty  of  money." 

"But — you  know — suppose  he  should  want  to 
go  along  with  us?"  Marie  asked,  timidly. 

"That  wouldn't  do,  at  all,"  said  Cousin  Selina. 

"But,  why  not?"  Anne  asked,  anxiously. 

"My  dear" — and  Cousin  Selina  looked  all  the 
primness  she  was  capable  of  assuming — "a. — we 
don't  really  know  who  he  is.  And  we  shall  be  a 
private  family." 

"We  know  he  is  well  known  as  a  great  teacher," 
exclaimed  Marie,  with  unwonted  heat. 

"And  that  our  first  people  go  to  him  for  lessons," 
echoed  Anne. 

"And  that  he  is  considered  to  be  some  nobleman 
in  disguise,"  put  in  Ralph — and  then  subsided  with 
a  heightened  color,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  at  the 
conclusion  of  some  of  his  speeches. 

"He  might  be  a  great  criminal,"  said  Anne. 

"Oh  no,  no,  no!"  Marie  cried,  with  added 
vehemence  for  each  exclamation.  "You  shall  not 
say  that  of  my  beloved  master." 

Then  they  were  all  silent,  and  Cousin  Selina  not 
a  little  troubled,  It  was  evident  that  in  Marie's 


240  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

mind  master  and  music  were  merged,  so  that  she 
could  hardly  separate  one  from  the  other. 

Cousin  Selina  was  scarcely  surprised  when  some 
days  after  she  received  a  summons  from  the  studio 
and  found  the  professor  in  his  richest  velvet  suit 
and  with  his  most  suave  manner,  waiting  to  receive 
her.  He  briefly  outlined  what  he  had  heard  from 
Marie. 

"She  is  doing  so  well  that  it  would  be  madness 
to  stop  now,"  he  said,  "and  though  I  would  not 
place  a  straw  in  the  way  of  her  enjoyment  or  your 
wishes,  I  believe  we  could  agree  upon  some  plan 
that  would  still  give  her  the  benefit  of  my  teach- 
ing." 

Cousin  Selina  was  silent,  her  eyes  downcast. 

"I  have  thought  of  boarding  her  here  in  the  city, 
in  some  nice  place,"  he  went  on,  "but  she  is  singu- 
larly attached  to  you  and  will  not  hear  of  leaving 
you.  And  how  can  one  wonder?" 

Cousin  Selina  caught  his  eye  for  one  minute,  and 
then  her  glance  fell  again. 

"I  feel  that  it  would  be  very  hard  to  give  her  up," 
she  said. 

"And  I,"  he  said,  with  a  singularly  passionate 
intonation,  "what  do  you  think  of  my  loss?" 


WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT.          241 

"But  she  is  almost  a  stranger  to  yon,"  said  his 
listener,  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"She  is  invaluable  to  me,"  he  went  on,  speaking 
as  with  effort.  "She  has  what  men  in  my  position 
find  but  once,  maybe  twice,  in  a  lifetime,  genius. 
She  is  mastering  everything  she  touches.  She  is 
adorable  as  a  pupil.  Ah!  I  teach  many,  but  she 
teaches  and  inspires  me.  In  plain  words,  I  find  I 
cannot  live  without  her.  Ah,  you  will  not  deny  me 
the  privilege." 

His  very  soul  spoke  from  his  face.  Undoubtedly 
this  handsome,  gifted  man  was  pleading  for  some- 
thing dear  to  him  as  life  itself. 

"But  what  can  I  do?"  asked  the  little  woman, 
distressfully. 

"It  is  written  that  you  must  go?"  he  asked. 

"Most  assuredly  it  is,"  she  said,  with  decision. 
"I  could  not  now  back  down,  since  the  papers  are 
all  signed  if  I  would.  Anne  needs  it — Ralph 
especially  needs  it — and — " 

"Last,  but  not  least,  you  yourself,  need  a 
change,"  he  said,  pleasantly — then  added,  quietly 
and  smilingly — "so  do  I." 

"But  your  pupils" — and  she  looked  up  again. 

"I  am  not  at  all  dependent  upon  my  pupils,"  he 


242  THE   YBLLOW  VIOLIN 

said  in  the  same  quiet  tones.  "Indeed  I  have  been 
thinking  seriously  for  some  time  of  giving  up  all 
but  Marie — Sweetest  Marie/'  he  said,  tenderly. 
"Now,  why  could  I  not  come  out  for  the  summer 
to  this  pretty  place  Marie  tells  me  of?  I  must  go 
somewhere  in  the  country.  My  doctor  tells  me 
so." 

"But,  sir,  I  have  not  even  seen  the  house/'  she 
said. 

"That  doesn't  matter — it  will  be  big  enough,"  he 
said,  in  his  quiet  way.  "I  should  only  want  one 
room,  and  one  has  all  the  open  day,  the  forests,  the 
vales,  all  the  majestic  handiwork  of  God  for  the 
rest.  Yes,  most  assuredly  you  must  take  me." 

"And — and — break  up  this" — her  eyes  wandered 
round  the  room  with  its  lavish  appointment. 

"Oh,  no — I  keep  my  studio.  Once  a  week  my 
man  will  be  here  to  look  out  for  things.  With  me, 
I  only  carry  my  Strad.  I  hire  a  piano  from  the 
nearest  city — presto  change — and  there  you  are." 

Somewhat  bewildered  and  very  much  perplexed, 
Cousin  Selina  listened.  It  seemed  almost  like  a 
break  in  her  plans,  and  only  for  Marie's  sake  could 
she  be  induced  to  think  of  it  with  any  complacency. 

"I  should  not  be  in  your  way,"  he  said,  as  if  divin- 


WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT          243 

ing  her  thoughts.  "I  am  a  man  of  plain  fashions 
and  plain  tastes.  I  have  known  what  it  is  to  want 
for  a  crust  of  bread,  since  the  breaking  up  of  my 
happy  home,  years  ago;  and  since  a  large  fortune 
has  fallen  within  my  grasp,  I  still  adhere  to  my 
humble  needs  and  customs,  indulging  only  in  my 
love  of  art,  and  an  innate  fondness  for  curios.  Yes, 
I  am  sure  you  will  look  favorably  upon  my  plea  for 
a  home  with  you  and  your  interesting  family.  I 
am  sure  you  will  favor  my  prayer  for  the  sake  of 
'Sweetest  Marie.'  " 

"I  would  do  much  for  her — but — I  am  lost  in 
astonishment.  What  is  she  to  you?  She  is  a  mere 
child,"  said  Cousin  Selina. 

"The  light  of  my  life!  The  apple  of  my  eye. 
Think  of  what  is  most  priceless  in  all  this  wide 
world,  and  more  priceless  still  is  Marie  to  me. 
No,"  and  he  put  up  his  hand — "don't  ask  me  why — 
I  could  not  tell  you  if  I  would.  I  see  the  purpose 
in  your  face — but — no,  no — that  is  a  question  that 
never  can  be  answered — never,  in  this  world,"  he 
concluded,  with  solemnity. 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  this  little  lady  who 
was  no  schemer.  "Well,  professor,"  she  answered, 
after  an  interval  of  thought,  "we  shall  all  leave  here 


244  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

early  next  week.  If,  after  an  inspection  of  the 
house,  I  find  I  can  accommodate  you  as  a  summer 
boarder,  I  will  let  you  know." 

"Good !  you  will  find  the  room,"  he  said,  spring  - 
ing  up.  "I  know  these  old  Maine  farm-houses  from 
cellar  to  rooftree.  You  will  have  more  room  than 
you  "will  know  what  to  do  with.  Maine  farmers 
revel  in  big  rooms  and  sunshine.  And  you  must 
give  me  the  privilege  of  furnishing  whatever  part 
of  the  household  you  assign  to  me.  If  I  have  one 
weakness  above  another,  it  is  the  love  of  pretty 
things  about  a  house.  I  have  plenty  of  money  and 
I  spend  it  as  I  please." 

She  smiled  assent,  and  rose  to  go. 

"But  whatever  happens,"  the  professor  went  on, 
earnestly,  also  rising,  "I  shall  make  Marie  my  sole 
charge.  I  have  nobody  in  the  world  nearer  than 
Swiss  second  cousins,  and  this  Italian,  who  serves 
me  with  the  blind  devotion  of  love.  If  I  go  I  take 
him,  for  I  am  exceedingly  dependent  upon  him  for 
many  kinds  of  service.  But  there  will  be  times 
when  he  can  help  you.  He  tells  me  he  was  brought 
up  on  a  farm,  and  knows  all  the  technical  parts  of 
the  business.  So  farewell  for  the  present,  and  I 
trust — I  know  you  will  bring  me  the  news  I  want. 


WHAT  THE  PROFESSOR  THOUGHT.          245 

You  have  only  to  write  me.  As  I  understand  it, 
you  still  intend  to  hold  this  house?" 

"Yes,  I  have  arranged  for  that,  for  a  period  o{ 
time,  at  least.  I  may  not  like  the  country  place,  or 
be  able  to  meet  its  exactions.  In  that  case  I  should 
come  back.  Miss  Jack,  the  little  woman  down 
stairs,  will  do  whatever  is  required  here  and  attend 
to  the  wants  of  the  lodgers  and  the  renting  of  the 
rooms." 

When  Cousin  Selina  had  gone  the  man  stood  for 
a  few  moments  in  a  brown  study.  His  brows  came 
together,  he  gnawed  his  under  lip  as  one  sometimes 
does,  when  perplexing  doubts  come  up  and  cannot 
readily  be  solved. 

"She  will  do  it" — at  last  he  said,  "she  will  do  it. 
Marie's  future  is  of  interest  to  her.  What  an  amia- 
ble little  lady  it  is !  I  never  saw  so  sweet  a  face  or 
graceful  a  manner.  Well,  I  think  my  summer  out- 
ing is  assured.  I  need  it,  too.  The  languor  of 
sickness  still  hangs  on.  Ah,  Sweetest  Marie,  we 
will  work  this  summer,  in  the  beautiful  woods. 
We  will  set  the  birds  singing  and  the  bees  hum- 
ming. We  \vill  make  the  grass  whisper  its  secrets 
and  the  flowers  yield  up  stories  with  their  perfume. 
Sweetest  Marie !  I  shall  have  you  all  to  myself." 


246  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

He  sat  down  to  the  piano  and  played  soft  minor 
chords,  interspersed  here  and  there  with  a  thread 
of  tender  melody,  and  looked  as  he  felt,  happier 
than  he  had  been  for  many  a  year. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
TAKING  POSSESSION  OF  THE  NEW  HOME. 

The  "Faith  Farm,"  the  girls  called  it,  was  taken. 
Cousin  Selina's  first  intention  had  been  to  go  down 
on  a  tour  of  inspection,  taking  Anne  with  her,  but 
she  finally  concluded  that  the  family  and  all  the 
household  goods  should  go  down  together.  So 
the  preparations  for  the  flitting  went  on.  One 
beautiful  morning  in  the  sunny  month  of  June,  they 
were  ready  for  their  journey  and  an  hour  later, 
delightedly  busy  watching  the  beauty  and  variety 
of  the  scenery,,  rivers  gliding  through  sunny, 
tortuous  banks,  riotous  with  foliage,  hills  clad  in 
living  verdure,  plains  that  might  fitly  have  been 
called  Paradise,  dotted  with  lovely  trees,  pretty 
homes  and  fairy  streams.  Even  Ralph,  accustomed 
as  he  was  to  novel  sights  and  the  glorious  views  of 
far  Southern  countries  seemed  to  awaken  to  a  new 
sense  of  the  beauty  of  his  native  land. 

For  a  day  and  a  night  they  journeyed  Maine- 
ward,  and  it  was  early  morning,  when  all  nature 

(247) 


248  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

was  freshest  and  fairest,  when  they  arrived  at  the 
station  where,  as  had  been  arranged,  a  farm  wagon 
and  sundry  teams  were  in  waiting  to  convey  them 
to  their  new  home. 

"It  is  as  I  hoped,"  Anne  exclaimed,  as  they  came 
in  view  of  the  homestead,  charmingly  situated  on 
rising  ground.  "I  was  so  afraid  it  would  be  a 
painted  house.  Instead  of  that  it  is  such  a  soft  , old- 
time  brown,  with  trellises  and  those  grand  old  trees 
in  front.  Oh,  this  will  be  living !" 

The  house  was,  as  Anne  said,  rich  with  soft  tints 
and  amidst  hill  and  tree  shadows.  It  sat  facing  the 
road  and  yet  at  a  long  distance  back.  Partly  cov- 
ered with  ivy,  the  shutters  almost  the  same  tint  as 
the  house,  the  sunshine  laying  red  across  an  ample 
porch,  built  in  the  Corinthian  style,  it  looked  a 
picture  of  home-like  comfort,  and  not  without  a 
certain  claim  to  beauty.  In  front  \vere  two  W7ide 
lawns  from  which  the  too  luxuriant  grass  had  been 
smoothly  shaven.  A  few  great  oaks  stood  about, 
casting  their  huge  shadows  far  across  the  road. 

The  front  door  stood  wide  open,  showing  a 
broad,  deep  hall  and  a  garden  space  beyond,  where 
were  blooming  many  sweet,  old-fashioned  flowers. 
The  rooms  were  all  large  and  sunny,  and  there  were 


TAKING   POSSESSION    OF   THE   NEW  HOME  249 

plenty  of  them,  as  Cousin  Selina  said  to  herself, 
with  half  a  sigh,  and  the  professor  with  his  Italian 
servant  could  be  very  easily  accommodated.  In 
every  room  was  an  old-fashioned  fire-place  already 
furnished  with  fire  dogs  and  the  paraphernalia 
appertaining  thereto.  What  made  it  seem  pecu- 
liarly homelike  were  the  inscriptions  inside  of  every 
door.  They  were  made  of  tinted  letters  and  con- 
veyed a  sense  of  possession  even  while  the  place 
was  bare  of  furniture.  In  the  back  of  the  house 
they  were  thus  arranged — 

"Julia's  Room"— "Tom's  Room"— "Jenny's 
Room" — and  so  through  the  house. 

"There  must  have  been  a  raft  of  children,"  said 
Anne,  as  they  moved  in  and  out. 

"Here  is  just  the  room  for  the  professor,"  said 
Marie,  entering  an  oblong  apartment  in  which 
through  five  large  windows  the  sun  flickered  in 
ruby  shafts  across  the  floor  and  made  an  illumina- 
tion impossible  to  art. 

"Yes,  as  long  as  he  must  come,"  said  Anne, 
slowly,  "this  will  be  just  the  room  for  him." 

"You  don't  seem  to  like  the  idea  of  his  coming," 
Marie  responded. 

"Oh,  yes"  — Anne  flushed  a  little — "only  I  don't 


260  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

understand  why  he  should  give  up  everything — his 
studio,  his  pupils— and  join  our  more  simple  life. 
I'll  tell  you  now  just  how  I  look  at  it,"  she  went  on, 
laughing  a  little,  "as  if  he  would  be  in  the  way  with 
his  velvet  coats  and  his  fine  manners." 

"I  didn't  dream  you  would  feel  like  that,"  said 
Marie,  disappointment  in  her  voice. 

"Oh,  we  mustn't  mind  it ;  of  course  you  will  not, 
because  you  are  used  to  him.  Perhaps  I  shall  get 
used  to  him." 

"If  you  knew  him,"  Marie  exclaimed,,  with 
pathetic  earnestness — "knew  how  sweet  he  can 
be — how  gentle,  and — and — fatherly,  you  could 
not  help  liking  him." 

"I  do  Jike  him,  dear,  and  for  your  sake  I  am  glad 
he  is  coming.  Perhaps,  too,  he  will  cheer  up  Ralph, 
who  seems  to  me  to  be  growing  stronger  every 
day."  The  two  girls  had  come  together  and  inter- 
twined arms. 

"But  we  shall  soon  see  how  the  country  will 
help  him,"  Marie  said,  quietly. 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  his  health — I  mean  his  man- 
ner/' Anne  went  on.  "He  has  such  a  look  of 
abstraction,  at  times,  and  starts  when  you  speak 
to  him." 


TAKING  POSSESSION   OF  THE  NEW  HOME  251 

"Yes,  I  have  noticed  that,"  Marie  replied, 
thoughtfully. 

"And — he  is  so — constrained !  Why  I  shouldn't 
dare  to  kiss  him  now".  '  He  seems  to  shrink  from  all 
demonstration.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Cousin 
Selina  about  it,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  think  it 
very  unusual.  As  soon  as  he  gets  well  enough  to 
go  away,  she  says,  he  will  come  all  right.  I  don't 
know,"  the  girl  ended,  with  a  pathetic  little  sigh. 

Then  the  girls  explored  the  outside  premises- 
went  through  the  well-filled  barns,  the  ample 
enclosures  for  stock,  examined  the  apple  orchard, 
where  already  hundreds  of  baby  Baldwins,  and 
winsome  russets  hung — ran  a  race  over  the  nearest 
field  and  then  paused  to  enjoy  the  sights  of  the  blue 
and  purple  mountains  that  formed  the  grand  out- 
lines of  their  premises.  To  them  the  poultry  yard 
also  was  a  revelation,  the  tender,  downy  little 
chicks,  just  out  of  the  shell,  the  proud  hens  with 
their  inimitable  crooning,  the  dove-cotes,  the 
hundreds  of  feathered  beauties,  whose  homes  were 
in  the  grand  old  oaks.  Never  were  two  happier 
girls  than  they  when  deep  in  the  work  of  egg  hunt- 
ing they  felt  about  in  the  fragrant  hay,  and  brought 
to  light  dozens  of  the  white  oval  beauties. 


252  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

In  due  time  came  the  delights  of  milking  and 
making  butter.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  see  them 
rejoicing  over  their  first  golden  pat,  or  smiling  as 
they  put  away  the  white  rows  of  cottage  cheese. 

Marie  was  in  her  element.  Notwithstanding  her 
passionate  love  for  music  and  her  rare  genius  for 
the  violin,  she  was  by  nature  a  capital  housekeeper. 
The  Swiss  thrift  of  her  ancestors  had  come  down  to 
her.  She  loved  simple  domestic  duties  and  always 
imparted  to  them  her  own  sweet  individuality.  No 
room  looked  quite  as  bright  as  the  little  one  she 
had  chosen  in  the  east  corner.  No  bed  looked 
quite  as  pure  and  spotless,  nor  as  deftly  made.  The 
dainty  curtains  at  her  window  had  a  clearness  of 
their  own,  and  every  thing  beside  shone  with  clean- 
liness. 

Quite  as  pleasant  was  the  change  effected  in  the 
physique  of  the  sick  lad.  Bland  winds  and  pleasant 
rambles  drove  the  pallor  from  his  cheek  before  they 
had  been  settled  in  the  Oaks  a  week.  Cousin  Selina 
noticed  the  change  with  pleasure,  and  kept  his 
incognito  at  his  earnest  request  that  she  would  do 
so  till  he  went  away,  ready  for  life's  work  and  life's 
mishaps  again. 

As  she  had  promised,  the  little  woman  wrote  to 


TAKING   POSSESSION   OF  THE  NEW  HOME  253 

the  professor,  for  she  saw  that  Marie  was  hungering 
for  her  lessons;  and  another  week  brought  him 
down  in  all  the  glory  of  a  hunting  suit  and  with 
fishing  lines  and  other  appliances  of  sport  almost 
innumerable. 

It  was  pathetic  to  see  with  what  zest  he  entered 
into  all  the  homely  little  details  of  the  house,  and, 
guided  by  Marie,  visited  all  the  haunts  which  she 
had  made  her  own,  with  almost  a  boyish  delight. 
It  was  not  long  before  heavy  vans  came  from  the 
city,  bringing  installments  of  furniture  for  the  new 
room,  furniture  light  and  delicate  as  willow-ware — 
a  carpet  of  Oriental  complexity  of  design  and  mar- 
velous in  coloring — a  fine  grand  piano  and  all  the 
et  ceteras  that  his  love  of  luxury  demanded.  He 
was  full  of  life  and  energy,  ready  in  all  things  to  do 
his  best,  and  declared  that  the  first  breath  of  pure 
country  air  had  revitalized  him.  He  donned  a 
Mexican  sombrero,  which  shaded  his  face  from  the 
sun,  and  took  long  walks,  often  carrying  his  violin 
with  him.  Towards  Marie  he  was  the  same  tender 
friend  and  kindly,  if  exacting  master. 

The  sweet  tones  of  violin  and  piano  sounded 
often  on  the  air;  passing  farmers  stopped  to  listen, 
and  the  children  of  near-by  families  gathered  of 

17 


254  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

nights  when  the    fine    wierd    notes  of  the  violin 

floated  up,  up  to  the  stars. 

Cousin  Selina  acknowledged  that  his  society — • 
far  from  being-  a  hindrance  to  work — stimulated 
them  all  to  their  best  efforts.  At  the  table  he  was 
full  of  anecdote.  In  the  farm  work,  whenever  he 
took  a  hand,  he  proved  himself  a  capital  worker. 

There  was  a  little  grove  to  the  right  of  the  house, 
where  the  former  proprietors  had  constructed  a 
table  and  furnished  the  space  round  with  rustic 
chairs.  In  this  leafy  enclosure,  Marie  took  her 
lessons  and  when  she  was  so  minded  pursued  her 
practicing,  listened  to  only  by  the  birds  of  the 
forest. 

In  this  way  she  made  great  progress.  The  pro- 
fessor, meanwhile,  arrayed  in  his  fishing  togs,  plod- 
ded off  to  the  river  with  the  Italian  lad,  to  catch 
trout,  and  often  brought  home  a  delectable  store. 
Sometimes  Ralph  went  with  him,  and  always  came 
back  browner  and  brighter  for  the  exercise.  Then 
little  fishing  parties  came  off  in  which  all  the  family 
joined,  taking  with  them  a  big  hamper  of  refresh- 
ments, and  living  in  the  open  for  a  day.  The 
professor  was  the  life  of  these  little  outings,  and 
his  boy  quietly  served  them,  moving  about  and 


TAKING   POSSESSION   OF   THE   NEW  HOME  255 

tendering  refreshments  with  the  grace  of  his 
country. 

It  was  a  new  and  delectable  experience  to  Cousin 
Selina.  Her  love  of  nature  found  here  its  outlet. 
Her  eyes  shone  with  the  light  which  happiness 
gives,  her  cheeks  took  on  the  roses  for  which  they 
had  been  famous  in  her  youth.  The  letters  that 
came  occasionally,  graphic  with  experiences  in 
foreign  lands,  gave  her  only  a  placid  content.  They 
fed  her  mental  appetite,  but,  as  she  often  said, 
"Nature  is  the  same  everywhere,"  and  rather 
smiled  at  the  unrest  their  travel  seemed  to  imply. 
Here  at  the  Oaks  she  rested,  soul  and  body — not 
even  the  work  she  accomplished,  wearied  her. 
Only  one  thing  oppressed  her  and  that  was  the 
secret  she  had  kept  to  herself,  Ralph's  unfortunate 
experience.  But  always  in  her  ears  there  was  that 
appealing  cry  of  the  lad — 

"Don't  tell  her  till  after  I  am  gone,"  and  so 
tender  and  regretful  were  her  feelings  that  she 
listened  to  his  appeal. 

The  professor,  though  very  active  and  full  of 
plans  during  the  day,  grew  always  restive  and 
moody  as  night  drew  near.  Then  he  betook  him- 
self to  his  music  during  the  hour  of  twilight,  and 


256  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

played,  as  Anne  often  averred,  harmonies  full  of 
heart-break.  He  seldom  sought  the  society  of  the 
family  at  such  hours,  but  preferred  to  be  alone, 
either  with  his  music,  or  with  nature.  In  the  dark- 
est nights  one  could  hear  his  restless  foosteps 
beating  a  tattoo  on  the  path  that  led  in  a  circuit 
round  the  house,  or  see  the  tip  of  his  lighted  cigar 
as  he  paced  up  the  road  and  back,  up  and  back, 
never  pausing,  till  the  clock  struck  ten.  Then  he 
would  come  in,  shake  hands  all  round,  if  the  ladies 
were  still  up,  and  go  to  his  room. 

"I  don't  think  the  professor  is  very  sociable  after 
tea,"  Anne  said  one  night,  as  the  master  left  them. 
"One  would  think  lie  would  read  or  play  or  talk 
to  us,  instead  of  which  he  wanders  to  and  fro  like 
an  uneasy  ghost." 

Marie  never  liked  to  hear  a  word  against  her 
teacher,  and  often  undertook  to  defend  him. 

"It  is  simply  his  habit,"  she  said.  "I  suppose 
he  has  become  accustomed  to  it." 

"One  would  think  he  might  give  it  up,  now  and 
then,"  said  Anne. 

"Whenever  I  have  walked  with  him/'  Ralph 
began,  "he  has  always  seemed  troubled  about 
something.  He  seldom  speaks,  never,  unless  he  is 


TAKING  POSSESSION  OF  THE  NEW  HOME  257 

spoken  to,  and  I  notice  that  he  clinches  his  hands 
often/' 

"Perhaps  he  has  some  secret  trouble,"  said  Anne. 

"Perhaps,"  Ralph  echoed  in  a  fainter  voice. 

"That  boy  of  his  can  play  almost  as  well  as  he 
does,"  said  Anne.  "I  heard  him  one  day  when  the 
professor  was  away." 

"He  plays  because  his  master  taught  him,"  said 
Marie.  "He  told  me  all  his  story  one  day.  I  don't 
wonder  he  loves  the  professor — how  could  anyone 
help  it,  knowing  how  noble  he  is." 

"Come,  children,  we  had  better  go  in,"  said 
Cousin  Selina,  rising. 

"While  the  moon  is  so  beautiful?"  pleaded  Anne. 

"It  is  after  ten  o'clock,  and  it  is  time/'  said 
Cousin  Selina. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  FARM  HAND. 

Full  of  plans  for  the  comfort  and  pleasure  of  his 
friends,  the  professor,  among  other  things,  bought 
two  horses,  one  of  them  a  sleek  little  mare,  brown 
as  a  berry  and  gentle  as  a  kitten. 

This  last  purchase  was  made  specially  for  Marie. 
The  other,  he  intended  partly  for  his  own  use  as  a 
riding  horse,  but  more  for  the  convenience  of  the 
family,  to  whom  the  long  walk  to  church  on  Sun- 
days was  more  or  less  fatiguing. 

It  was  noticeable  that  when  he  went  out  on 
Storm,  the  name  he  had  given  the  big  horse,  he  was 
less  inclined  to  go  by  himself  evenings,  more  ready 
to  chat  and  play.  Both  Marie  and  Anne  soon 
became  adepts  at  horsemanship,  Anne  preferring 
the  sleepy  old  horse  used  for  farming  purposes,  and 
before  breakfast,  that  the  pleasure  should  not  inter- 
fere with  Marie's  practice,  both  girls,  well  mounted, 
and  each  carrying  her  favorite  colors  on  her  whip, 

(258) 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH   THE   FARM  HAND  259 

took  long  rides  into  the  heart  of  the  country,  and 
came  back  radiant  and  hungry  for  breakfast. 

One  morning,  after  a  sharp  canter,  the  girls  drew 
up  under  the  shadow  of  an  overhanging  oak.  A 
sun-burned  young  fellow  in  an  ordinary  farmer's 
dress,  sat  in  the  same  shadow,  on  a  rock  by  the 
road-side.  His  hat  was  thrown  on  the  ground,  his 
bundle  fastened  to  a  stick  lay  beside  it  and  he  was 
busily  eating  something  he  had  taken  from  a  paper 
bag.  The  young  man  had  a  pleasant  face,  reddish 
hair  and  beard  and  the  eyes  were  hidden  under  a 
pair  of  enormous  blue  spectacles  which  looked 
almost  like  goggles. 

"It's  a  tramp,"  said  Anne,  as  the  two  girls  caught 
sight  of  him.  "He  has  been  begging  along  the 
road  and  is  eating  his  breakfast.  Poor  fellow!  I 
wonder  if  he  has  any  home?" 

"Ain't  you  afraid?"  asked  Marie. 

"Afraid,  and  on  horseback,"  laughed  Anne — 
"afraid  of  a  man  who  has  to  wear  blue  spectacles. 
Why,  probably  he  can't  see  beyond  his  nose — and 
— I  do  believe  he  wants  to  speak  to  us." 

"Hadn't  we  better  ride  on?"  whispered  Marie, 
who,  with  all  her  genius,  was  very  timid  on  occa- 
sions— "I'm  afraid." 


260  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"I'm  not,"  said  Anne,  now  walking  her  horse, 
"here's  a  chance  for  an  adventure,  the  first  one 
we've  ever  had,  and  I'm  going  to  improve  it." 

"Good  morning,  ladies,"  said  the  young  fellow, 
respectfully,  as  he  rose  from  the  rock.  "I  was  just 
wondering  if  I  had  missed  my  way.  Perhaps  you 
will  be  good  enough  to  give  me  a  little  informa- 
tion." 

"Certainly,"  said  Anne,  reigning  in  her  horse. 

"I  am  trying  to  find  a  farm  carried  on  by  a  lady, 
and  who,  I  am  told,  wants  a  hand.  The  lady's  name 
I  forget." 

"Oh,  you  mean  Cousin  Selina,"  said  Anne — "of 
course — she  is  the  only  woman  running  a  farm  in 
this  district.  Yes,  we  happen  to  be  in  her  family. 
She  does  want  a  new  hand — I've  heard  her  say  so 
several  times.  Yes,  you're  on  the  right  road. 
About  a  mile  from  here  you  will  see  a  little  red 
school-house.  Go  on  the  right  of  that  until  you 
come  to  a  large  gray  house  set  back  from  the  road. 
That  is  the  farm.  Ask  for  Miss  Selina." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  young  man,  with  natural 
courtesy,  as  he  lifted  his  hat,  and  the  two  girls  went 
on. 


AN   INTERVIEW  WITH   THE   FARM   HAND  261 

"I  should  like  to  be  home  when  Cousin  Selina 
engages  him,"  said  Anne. 

"Why?"  asked  Marie,  "and  how  do  you  know 
she  will  engage  him?" 

"I  know  she  will,"  said  Anne — "I  should. 
There's  something  so  pleasant  about  him.  He  is 
not  a  tramp  by  any  means — his  manners  are  good. 
I  like  him." 

"Oh,  you  shouldn't  like  anybody  on  so  short  an 
acquaintance,"  said  Marie. 

"How  about  the  professor,  then?"  asked  Anne. 
"Didn't  you  like  him  from  the  first?" 

"Oh,  but  he  is  a  man,  an  old  man,"  was  Marie's 
answer. 

"Yes,  he  looks  old,  at  times,  but  in  his  actions 
he  is  anything  but  old.  I  won't  blame  you,  how- 
ever, he  is  certainly  good  to  you.  The  way  you 
play  the  violin  even  now,  is  something  wonderful. 
Oh,  you  needn't  think  the  birds  are  your  only 
listeners,"  she  went  on,  laughing  at  Marie's  blushes. 
"He  is  certainly  going  to  make  you  a  great  per- 
former." 

"He  says  I  improve,"  said  Marie,  modestly. 

"Why,  he  just  won't  be  able  to  leave  you,  that's 
all.  I  prophesy  he  will  stay  all  winter  and  give  up 


262  THE    YELLOW  VIOLIN 

his  engagements  as  fast  as  he  can.  He  stays  only 
three  days  in  the  city  as  it  is,  and  one  of  them  is 
Sunday.  He  likes  winter  sports  and  winter  winds 
and  winter  fires,  he  says.  Oh,  dear,  and  I  shall 
have  to  go  back  to  the  city  and  live  with  Aunt 
Martha  and  miss  all  the  fine  sleigh  rides  and 
skating,"  in  a  tone  of  deep  disappointment. 

They  had  turned  about  and  were  cantering 
homewards. 

"You  will  have  to  leave  school,"  said  Marie. 

"I  shall  graduate  this  fall,"  was  Anne's  answer, 
"and  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  be  satisfied  at  Aunt 
Martha's  again.  T  shall  be  so  glad  when  I  am  of 
age — if  only  Ralph  will  stay  at  home — because  I 
think  we  could  be  very  happy  together.  I  don't 
want  him  to  go  to  sea  again,  but  as  Aunt  Martha 
says,  'once  a  sailor  always  a  sailor,'  I  suppose." 

Meantime  the  young  man,  after  a  brisk  walk, 
entered  the  farm-house  gate,  and  encountered 
Cousin  Selina,  who  was  picking  dandelions. 

"Oh,  you  are  after  work !"  she  said,  taking  off 
her  blue  sun-bonnet  and  preceding  him  to  the 
porch,  where  presently  she  stood  surveying  him. 

"Yes,  the  time  of  harvest  is  almost  here,"  she 
went  on,  "and  though  there  is  not  much  heavy 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH   THE  FARM  HAND  263 

work  to  do,  there  is  more  than  old  Michael  can  do 
alone.  I  was  wishing  for  a  good  stout  boy,  and  I 
like  your  looks.  But  why  at  your  age — you  tell 
me  you  are  eighteen — do  you  wear  spectacles?" 

"Simply  for  protection,"  he  answered.  "I  was 
advised  to  wear  them." 

There  was  something  about  the  young  f  el  low- 
that  impressed  Cousin  Selina — the  same  qualities 
that  had  pleased  Anne — frankness  and  intelligence. 
His  manners  were  respectful  and  his  face  was  win- 
ning. He  proved  to  be,  on  better  acquaintance,  a 
valuable  assistant.  At  first  he  was  quietly  observ- 
ant and  said  but  little,  yet  he  seemed  to  understand 
exactly  what  was  required  of  him,  and  went  about 
the  farm  as  if  the  work  had  long  been  a  daily 
experience. 

"Isn't  it  queer  that  he  wears  those  big  blue  spec- 
tacles?" Anne  said  one  day  to  Cousin  Selina.  They 
were  alone  in  the  house,  for  Ralph  had  gone  out 
for  exercise,  and  Marie  and  the  professor  were  in 
their  sylvan  studio  at  hard  study. 

"Yes,  dear,  but  it  seems  that  while  he  was  in 
some  foreign  place — for  he  seems  to  have  traveled 
— he  slept  one  night  on  a  wall,  outside  the  city,  and 
the  moon  shone  directly  on  his  eyes.  It  sometimes 


264  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

makes  people  blind,  he  says,  and  it  weakened  his 
eyes  to  such  an  extent  that  by  the  advice  of  a  physi- 
cian, he  has  worn  glasses  ever  since.  He  doesn't 
mind  them  now." 

Anne  was  making  pillows  for  the  big  lounge  in 
the  sitting-room,  Ralph's  favorite  resting  place. 

"Well,  he  certainly  is  too  remarkable  to  throw 
himself  away  as  a  farm  hand,"  said  Anne,  measur- 
ing off  some  linen.  "Doesn't  he  talk  well?  It 
seems  to  me  he  knows  everything.  His  name  is  a 
very  ordinary  one,  though — just  Tom  Merton. 
And  he  has  been  abroad,  too.  How  do  you  sup- 
pose he  went?  Or  perhaps  he  was  born  abroad." 

"He  certainly  seems  to  have  turned  his  knowl- 
edge to  the  best  account,"  said  Cousin  Selina. 

"And  don't  you  know,  I  think  Ralph  is  a  little 
jealous,"  Anne  went  on,  flourishing  a  big  pair  of 
shears  over  her  work.  "Do  you  not  notice  how  he 
watches  him  so  strangely,  almost  furtively.  I 
believe  he  half  envies  him  his  strength.  Poor 
Ralph !  He  would  willingly  work  if  he  were  only 
strong  enough.  And  I  declare  there's  something 
so  much  like  him  in  Tom's  manner  sometimes, 
Poor  Ralph !  if  he  could  only  get  strong — only  be 
well  again.  I  sometimes  fancy  he  never  will." 


AN   INTERVIEW   WITH    THE   FARM   HAND  265 

"Then,  my  dear,  we  must  care  for  him,"  said 
Cousin  Selina,  with  her  bright  smile. 

"Care  for  who?"  spoke  up  a  quick  voice,  and 
there  stood  Marie  just  from  her  lesson,  violin  in 
hand,  her  hair  blown  in  tiny  curls  over  her  forehead 
by  the  forest  wind. 

"We  were  talking  about  Ralph,"  said  Anne. 

"Oh,  Ralph !  The  professor  is  getting  Brownie 
harnessed  up  and  is  going  to  take  Ralph  a  long 
ride.  He  is  getting  better,  isn't  he?  The  Professor 
says  he's  a  sick  man,  yet — poor  fellow.  Why,  yes, 
we  will  all  care  for  him.  If  I  get  famous  and  make 
money,  I'll  spend  plenty  of  it  for  him.  Yet,  we 
must  all  turn  to  and  nurse  and  amuse  him  till  his 
strength  comes  back." 

Anne  laughed  at  the  girl's  enthusiasm,  and  hav- 
ing finished  her  cushion,  shook  it  into  shape  and 
waited  for  Marie  to  speak  again. 

"I'm  almost  sorry  that  great  hearty  fellow,  Tom, 
has  come  here,"  the  girl  went  on,  caressing  her 
violin.  "He  makes  Ralph  seem  weaker  than  he 
really  is,  with  his  strong  arms,  and  the  work  he 
does.  I  don't  wonder  Ralph  feels  badly ;  I  should 
myself.  He  feels  as  I  do,  sometimes,  when  I  hear 
the  Professor  bringing  out  those  beautiful  strong 


266  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

trills  and  making  the  violin  sing  like  a  lark.  It  may 
be  jealousy,  I  don't  know;  but  I  could  cry  to  think 
he  can  do  it,  and  I  can't." 

"Not  yet,  but  you  will  in  time."  said  Anne. 

"Yes ;  I  hope  so,  or  I  never  should  work  so  hard. 
I  practiced  four  hours  running  this  morning." 

"And  now,"  said  Anne;  "I'm  going  to  make 
some  cake.  Want  to  help?" 

"Yes,  be  glad  to — only  let  me  put  the  dear  rid- 
dle away  in  its  snug,  soft  bed.  Do  you  know  it 
seems  like  something  human  to  me." 

Anne  had  constituted  herself  cake-maker  for  the 
family,  and  enjoyed  the  work  thoroughly.  It  was 
a  pleasure  to  see  her  in  the  sunny  kitchen,  her  white 
arms  bared  to  the  elbow,  a  little  cap  covering  her 
brown  tresses,  as  she  stood  in  the  midst  of  shining 
pans,  stores  of  flour,  butter  and  eggs,  or  bending 
over  the  white  pine  table  and  her  cheeks  flushed, 
her  eyes  rivalling  the  blue  of  the  heavens,  singing 
and  trilling  in  concert  with  the  birds  as  she  frothed 
the  eggs  and  mixed  the  spices  and  beat  the  golden 
dough. 

Looking  over  the  store  of  eggs  she  found  that 
for  the  recipe  she  was  using,  she  needed  two  more. 
Marie  was  busy,  doing  her  part  of  the  work,  so  she 


AN   INTERVIEW   WITH   THE   FARM   HAND  267 

wiped  her  hands  and  went  out  into  the  sunshine, 
across  the  yard,  to  the  big  barn. 

She  did  not  notice  that  any  one  was  there,  so  ran 
her  hands  lightly  through  some  loose  hay,  when 
suddenly  she  became  aw7are  of  a  rasping  sound,  and 
looking  up  saw  Tom.,  the  new  hand,  sharpening  a 
scythe.  Her  fingers  had  just  closed  on  the  eggs, 
and  she  uttered  a  half  frightened  exclamation  as 
she  let  them  fall  again. 

"I  thought  you  were  in  the  clover  field,"  she  said 
presently. 

"I  was,  a  few  minutes  ago,"  he  replied,  "but 
this,"  pointing  to  his  scythe,  "wanted  sharpening, 
so  I  came  here  for  the  tools." 

"Isn't  it  a  lovely  day?"  she  asked,  making  an- 
other onslaught  upon  the  eggs. 

"Yes,  fine — though  warm" — he  answered,  look- 
ing up,  but  instantly  falling  to  his  work  again. 

"It's  nicer  in  the  open  air,  though,  than  in  the 
house,"  she  said.  "I  sometimes  envy  you  men 
being  in  the  fields." 

"We  should  make  you  very  welcome  there,  Miss 
Anne,  though  I  am  afraid  if  you  attempted  to  use 
one  of  these,"  pointing  again  to  the  scythe,  "you 
would  find  it  warmer  work  than  making  cake." 


268  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"How  did  you  know  I  was  making  cake?"  she 
asked  a  little  puzzled  as  to  his  manner,  for  he  had 
seldom  spoken  to  her. 

"Why,  isn't  it  baking-day?"  h'e  asked,  stopping 
his  work  a  moment. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  that  you  remembered  so  well. 
Yes,  I  needed  more  eggs,  and  so  came  here  to  get 
them." 

"Shall  I  help  you?"  he  asked,  still  going  on  with 
his  work. 

"To  make  cake?"  and  she  laughed  at  the  fancy. 

"No,  to  find  eggs."  He  stopped  sharpening  his 
scythe,  and  pulled  his  soft  hat  lower  over  his  eyes. 

"No,  indeed,  I've  got  the  eggs — and  I  must 
hurry,  or  the  cake'll  be  all  dough,"  and  she  moved 
forward,  when  he  also  took  a  step  towards  her. 

"Don't  go,  please,"  he  said  in  a  very  low  voice, 
and  again  pulled  at  his  hat. 

A  little  startled,  Anne  paused,  in  her  face  a  look 
of  blank  astonishment.  What  did  he  mean,  this 
strange  lad,  by  wishing  to  detain  her? 

"Why  do  you  detain  me?"  she  asked,  puzzled 
and  a  little  indignant. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  he  answered, 
his  manner  constrained,  his  voice  sinking  almost  to 


AN   INTERVIEW   WITH    THE   FARM   HAND  269 

a  whisper.  Then  he  lifted  his  hat  and  threw  it  aside, 
straightening  himself.  "I — have — a — a — secret  to 
confide  to  you." 

"A  secret" — she  recoiled — "oh,  you  had  better 
keep  it  till  after  I  have  made  my  cake,"  she  said, 
trying  to  speak  lightly.  "Or  shall  I  send  Cousin 
Selina  out?" 

"No,  no — I  want  you.  I  could  not  speak  to  her 
about  him.  One  can  see  that  she  is  very  fond  of 
him." 

"Who  is  she  so  fond  of?"  Anne  asked,  begin- 
ning to  be  interested,  and  coming  back  a  step  or 
two.  "I  don't  understand  you." 

A  little  bird  perched  on  a  locust  tree  outside,  be- 
gan to  sing,  and  Anne  was  conscious  of  listening 
for  his  peculiar  trill  as  she  waited  for  the  new  farm 
hand  to  speak. 

"The  fellow — that  has  been  palming  himself  off 
as  your  brother,"  he  spoke  with  genuine  anger. 
"I  did  think  I  could  wait  awhile — I've  been  school- 
ing myself,  but  to  sit  with  such  a  bare-faced  im- 
poster  at  the  same  table — I  can't  endure  it  any 
longer." 

The  young  fellow  looked  grave,  and  as  for  Anne 

— she    was    absolutely    dumb    with    astonishment. 
18 


270  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Ralph,  her  blue-eyed  brother,  as  she  had  learned 
to  think  him,  an  imposter?  Ralph  with  his  dainty 
ways  and  delicate  tastes,  one  who  could  lend  him- 
self to  a  device  that  would  of  itself  destroy  all  her 
faith  in  him.  It  could  not  be. 

"I  will  not  believe  it,"  she  said,  angrily.  "Who 
are  you  that  you  dare  to  disturb  our  home  with  the 
utterance  of  such  terrible  doubts?" 

"You  don't  know  me,"  he  said  quietly,  throwing 
aside  his  hat  and  lifting  the  blue  glasses  from  his 
eyes.  His  hair,  which  had  been  closely  cropped 
when  he  first  came,  grew  now  in  small,  clustering 
waves,  falling  here  and  there  in  little  rings  on  his 
sun-burned  forehead.  He  had  washed  the  blue 
black  shading  from  chin  and  cheek;  the  peculiar 
stoop  he  had  cultivated  had  entirely  disappeared, 
and  he  stood  there,  a  manly,  handsome  fellow  of 
eighteen. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  REAL  RALPH. 

"Now,  Anne,  do  you  know  me?"  he  asked  in  a 
ringing  voice. 

Anne  stood  like  a  statue,  gazing  and  wondering. 
Slowly  she  came  to  herself  as  one  waking  from  a 
dream. 

"You  look  like  Ralph,"  she  murmured,  hesitat- 
ingly, scarcely  knowing  what  she  said. 

"I  am  Ralph !  You  mean  that  I  look  like  that 
fellow  at  the  house,"  he  went  on,  scorn  in  his  voice. 
"Yes,  I  do.  We  were  as  like  as  twins,  but  he  is 
false  and  I  am  true.  Look  at  this  ring,"  he  went 
on,  taking  a  small  golden  hoop  out  of  his  bosom, 
where  he  wore  it  attached  to  a  chain.  "Do  you 
recognize  it?" 

"Yes,  indeed" — I  have  one  just  like  it,"  she  said, 
eagerly.  "Mother  gave  one  to  Ralph  and  one  to 
me.  Oh,  what  can  this  mean?"  and  she  clasped 

her  trembling  hands  together. 

(271) 


272  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

"It  means  that  I  am  your  true  brother,  Ralph; 
your  own  brother. 

"It  also  means  that  the  boy  you  have  been  nurs- 
ing and  coddling  is  an  imposter,  and  that  you  are 
my  very  own,  dear  Sister  Anne." 

He  held  out  his  arms.  Fully  assured  of  the  truth 
of  his  words,  Anne  ran  into  them. 

"This  is  the  way  I  always  thought  I  should  wel- 
come you,"  she  said,  leaning  her  head  on  his  breast. 
"I  see  now  why  I  felt  so  little  warmth  of  sisterly 
affection  for  the — other  Ralph.  Who  is  he?  How 
did  he  dare  to  personate  you,  and  deceive  us  all, 
especially  that  dear  woman  who  nursed  him  into 
health!  Poor  Cousin  Selina!  What  will  she  say 
when  she  knows?  What  will  she  do?  Her  heart  is 
bound  up  in  that  boy.  Oh,  how  strange  it  all  is! 
Yes,  I  know  you  are  my  very  own  brother,  and  he 
—I  can  hardly  bare  to  think  of  it — he,  so  young — 
a  stranger  and  a  deceiver." 

"We  were  both  on  board  the  same  ship,"  said 
the  boy,  still  supporting  her.  "Both  were  named 
Ralph — we  looked  alike,  as  you  know,  for  you  now 
see  the  resemblance.  I  fell  overboard,  as  I  have  no 
doubt  he  told  you,  only  he  substitutes  himself  for 
me.  Was  it  not  a  mean,  cruel  trick?  Much  as  I 


He  held  out  his  arms 


THE   REAL  RALPH  273 

liked  him,  and  I  confess  I  was  very  fond  of  him,  I 
despise  him  for  it  now." 

"It  was  horrible/'  said  Anne,  shuddering.  "Then 
you  were  rescued,  of  course." 

"Yes,  the  ship  that  picked  me  up  was  bound  for 
the  East  Indies.  There  I  spent  three  years  in  the 
service  of  a  merchant.  Then  I  drifted  off  again, 
and  found  considerable  profit  in  working  for  a  cele- 
brated mining  interest  on  the  southern  coast.  And 
so  I  drifted  hither  and  thither  till  I  reached  Eng- 
land. There,  while  in  London,  I  went  on  board  of 
a  small  steamer  plying  the  Thames,  and  met  my 
two  aunts,  Hannah  and  Martha.  They  were  gra- 
cious enough  to  recognize  me,  particularly  my 
Cousin  Fanny,  who  was  with  them,  and  they  told 
me  what  an  imposition  had  been  practiced  on  you 
all.  I  suppose  that  young  hypocrite  has  ingrati- 
ated himself  into  your  affections.  I  am  sorry  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  disgrace  him,  but  he  has  pre- 
sumed upon  Cousin  Selina's  intelligence  and  your 
affection,  and  lowered  himself  forever  in  my  eyes. 
I  hate  a  coward !" 

"It  was  dreadful  of  him — how  could  he  degrade 
himself?"  Anne  responded,  thinking  of  the  sin- 
gularly sweet  face,  refined  by  illness,  the  many 


274  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

charms  of  manner  that  had  endeared  the  pretender 
to  their  hearts.  "And  I  see  now,"  she  went  on, 
"why  I  felt  so  constrained  in  his  presence,  as  I  fre- 
quently did.  It  never  seemed  quite  natural  to  me 
to  call  him  brother — always  there  was  a  something 
that  made  me  doubt — always  an  unexplainable 
coldness  between  us.  I  am  so  sorry  that  we  shall 
have  to  unmask  him.  But  then  what  else  can  we 
do?  If  only  he  were  strong  and  well,  he  should 
go  tomorrow." 

"Ah,  there  it  is,"  her  brother  said.  "I  pity  the 
fellow  because  he  is  weak.  I  don't  suppose  he  could 
shift  for  himself  if  he  were  turned  adrift.  I  think 
we  had  better  use  extreme  caution  in  the  matter. 
I'm  sure  I  don't  begrudge  him  the  morsel  he  eats, 
nor  the  roof  that  shelters  him,  nor  even  dear  little 
Cousin  Selina's  sympathy.  But  I  do  hate  a  dis- 
sembler and  a  liar." 

Anne  had  totally  forgotten  her  cake-making,  and 
the  two  eggs  lay  where  she  had  put  them.  They 
had  seated  themselves  on  a  huge  beam  that  jutted 
out  from  the  wall,  and  Ralph  had  thrown  an  arm 
over  his  sister's  shoulder.  Now  and  then  he  kissed 
her  with  the  famished  eagerness  of  a  heart  that  had 
known  no  home  caresses  for  many  long  years. 


THE   REAL  RALPH  275 

"Cousin  Selina  must  be  told  at  once,"  said  Anne. 

"Yes,  perhaps,"  said  Ralph,  hesitatingly.  "Poor 
old  fellow !  I  did  love  him  very  dearly,  once.  He 
was  almost  my  second  self,  but  then  I  thought  him 
the  soul  of  honor.  I  am  so  disappointed  to  find 
him — what  he  is,"  he  added  regretfully. 

"And  now  you  are  going  to  stay  with  us,"  said 
Anne,  laying  her  head  on  his  shoulder  with  the 
loving  assurance  of  true  sisterly  affection,  which 
now  she  was  not  afraid  to  show. 

"Why,  Anne !  Why,  Anne !"  and  Cousin  Selina 
stood  in  the  doorway  the  picture  of  consternation, 
while  both  Ralph  and  his  sister  started  as  her  shad- 
ow fell  across  the  floor. 

"Don't  tell  her  now,"  said  Ralph,  mischief  in  his 
eyes. 

"WThat  are  you  thinking  of,  child?"  and  Cousin 
Selina  came  forward,  scarcely  looking  at  Ralph. 

"She  says  she  loves  me/'  exclaimed  that  auda- 
cious young  man. 

"Why,  Anne,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  Come 
with  me  this  moment,"  and  with  flashing  eyes  the 
little  woman  took  her  by  the  hand.  "I  cannot  find 
words  to  tell  you  how  much  astonished  and  grieved 


276  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

I  am,"  she  went  on,  as  they  gained  a  small  arbor 
near  the  rest  of  the  house. 

"What  at,  dear?"  asked  Anne,  her  eyes  assuming 
an  expression  of  innocent  surprise. 

"What  at?  You  astonish  and  provoke  me  be- 
yond measure/'  said  Cousin  Selina,  angrily.  "Your 
head  was  on  his  shoulder — I — " 

Anne  raised  her  hand  pleadingly. 

"I  have  a  tremendous  secret  to  tell  you,"  Anne 
said  in  a  low  voice,  as  they  sat  down  together. 
"The  cake  must  go  and  the  bread  must  go,  unless 
Marie  attends  to  them.  Dearest,  did  you  know, 
did  you  even  dream  that  you  were  harboring  an 
adventurer  and  a  deceiver  under  this  roof?" 

It  was  Cousin  Selina's  turn  to  look  aghast.  How 
had  Anne  learned  this? 

"It  is  true.  The  person  who  has  pretended  to 
be  my  brother  has  deceived  us  all  to  an  extraor- 
dinary degree." 

Cousin  Selina  grew  very  pale.  She  had  not  yet 
spoken. 

"He  took  my  brother's  family  name,  he  allowed 
you  to  support  him,  work  for  him,  nurse  him  and 
grow  fond  of  him — spend  your  little  money  on 


THE  REAL  RALPH  277 

doctor's  bills  for  him.  He  is  a  wicked,  designing 
fellow,  and  deserves  to  be  driven  from  our  doors." 

"Why,  my  dear — you — you  take  away  my 
breath,"  murmured  Cousin  Selina. 

"Of  course  I  do — I  thought  I  should,  and  now 
let  me  tell  you  the  whole  story.  My  brother,  the 
real  Ralph,  is  that  new  farm  hand,  Tom  Merton, 
whom  you  have  taken  such  a  fancy  to,  and  that's 
why  you  saw  my  head  on  his  shoulder.  He  did 
not  drown  the  night  he  fell  overboard.  He  was 
picked  up  by  a  ship  bound  to  some  foreign  port, 
where  he  stayed  for  a  long  time.  Finally,  and  this 
is  the  most  romantic  part  of  the  story,  he  returned 
to  England  and  met  Aunt  Hannah  and  Aunt 
Martha  and  Cousin  Fanny — think  of  that — on  a 
steamer  on  some  excursion.  Fancy  what  they 
must  have  thought.  And  here  we  have  all  been 
most  shamefully  deceived,  most  shamefully,  you, 
most  of  all." 

"No,  dear,  I  was  undeceived,  some  time  ago/' 
said  Cousin  Selina,  quietly. 

"What!"  Anne  sprang  from  her  seat.  "You 
knew — you — oh,  what  can  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  he  made  a  clean  breast  of  it — con- 


278  THE    YELLOW   VIOLIN 

fessed  it  all  to  me — and  a  more  contrite,  shame- 
burdened  soul  I  never  saw." 

"Oh,  Cousin  Selina,  why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 
The  girl  stood  before  her  pale  and  troubled. 

"Perhaps  it  was  my  weakness  to  spare  him  just 
then,"  Cousin  Selina  said  gently.  "He  himself 
begged  me  not  to  tell  you  till  he  should  have  gone, 
and  he  is  determined  to  go.  If  you  had  witnessed 
the  agony  of  his  confession — how  sick  and  weary 
he  was  of  his  burden — you  yourself  might  have 
asked  me  to  spare  him." 

"So  I  might — so  I  should — but  how  strange  it 
seems !  You  knew  it  all,"  Anne  responded.  "And 
he  was  brave  enough  to  confess.  It  almost  exoner- 
ates him  in  my  eyes.  Cousin  Selina,  the  Lord  must 
love  you — and  as  for  this  poor  boy,  I  should  think 
he  would  almost  worship  you." 

"I  have  certainly  grown  very  fond  of  him,  poor 
boy — but  let  us  go  out  and  see  our  new  found  lad. 
I  cannot  even  now  believe  my  own  eyes." 

"Where  is  the  other  Ralph?"  asked  Anne.  "I 
dread  to  see  him — and  yet — " 

"He  went  out  awhile  ago,"  Cousin  Selina  an- 
swered. "It  is  almost  lunch  time.  He  should  be 
here  by  now." 


THE  REAL  RALPH  279 

Anne  touched  her  arm  and  pointed  significantly 
in  the  direction  of  the  barn. 

The  boys  had  met. 

They  stood  together  under  the  wide  spreading 
shade  of  a  clump  of  chestnut  trees  half  way  from 
the  barn  to  the  house.  Ralph  the  first  held  his 
head  low.  His  attitude  was  one  of  humility.  Ralph 
the  newcomer  was  talking  and  gesticulating  rap- 
idly. 

Suddenly,  while  the  two  women  stood  expectant 
of  they  knew  not  what,  the  two  fell  into  each  other's 
arms.  Cousin  Selina  drew  a  sobbing  breath.  Anne 
was  wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes.  Then  arm  in 
arm  the  two  boys  came  toward  the  house. 

"Thank  God,"  half  sobbed  Cousin  Selina. 

"They  must  have  loved  one  another,"  said  Anne, 
brokenly.  "We  must  be  very  careful  over  our  poor 
penitent." 

The  two  lads  came  on.  They  made  a  very 
touching  picture — one  of  ruddy  health,  the  other 
of  illness  and  dependence.  Ralph  ran  headlong  into 
Cousin  Selina's  open  arms. 

"I  haven't  forgotten  you,  nor  your  kindness  to 
me  when  I  was  a  little  fellow — nor  your  kindness 
to  my  Sister  Anne.  She  has  told  me  all  about  it. 


280  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

As  for  my  counterpart,  this  other  Ralph,  we  have 
made  it  all  up,  and  are  going  to  forget  every  un- 
pleasant memory.  We  intend  to  be  good  friends, 
and  perhaps,  in  time,  go  into  business  together. 
Meanwhile  I  take  my  wages  from  you." 

It  was  a  happy  family  that  sat  together  that  night 
at  the  supper  table.  The  professor  who  was  made 
acquainted  with  the  whole  story,  used  all  the  art 
of  which  he  was  master — and  that  was  not  a  little — 
to  banish  whatever  of  awkwardness  might  have  lin- 
gered about  the  romance,  and  after  tea,  brought  all 
his  masterful  genius  to  bear  for  their  entertain- 
ment. The  violin,  piano  and  other  instruments 
came  into  use.  Anne's  brother  played  the  banjo 
creditably,  Marie  and  the  Professor  played  a  simple 
duet,  which  had  most  of  the  merits  of  more  pre- 
tentious music,  while  the  Italian,  to  his  great  de- 
light, accompanied  them. 

"I  was  never  so  happy  and  at  rest  in  my  life/' 
the  Professor  said,  finding  himself  beside  Cousin 
Selina,  whose  sweet  eyes  were  brighter  than  usual. 
"I  am  afraid  you  must  keep  me  here  as  a  fixture 
this  coming  winter." 

"But  your  pupils,  Professor?"  said  the  little 
woman. 


THE   REAL   RALPH  281 

"That  for  my  pupils,"  he  said,  snapping  his 
fingers.  "Do  you  know  I  should  not  care  if  I  never 
had  another  pupil  except  sweetest  Marie.  I  only 
consented  to  teach  for  a  diversion.  Three  years 
ago,  when  I  came  to  this  country,  I  was  a  very 
unhappy  man.  Plenty  of  money — oh,  yes — but  it 
came  too  late.  Few  of  my  name  remained — my 
own  were  dead.  Those  I  could  have  worked  for 
and  made  happy,  no  longer  needed  me.  I  took  to 
work  as  the  drowning  man  clings  to  a  straw,  and 
for  a  time  I  was  diverted.  Still  happiness  came 
not,  till  I  saw  this  young  girl  with  her  artless  dark 
eyes  that  looked  right  into  my  heart.  She  brought 
to  me  the  purest  memories  of  my  life — the  time 
when  all  was  well  lost  for  love,  and  every  hour 
found  me  laboring  with  only  one  aim  before  me, 
the  happiness  of  those  I  loved. 

"Well,  well,  we  must  not  ponder  on  the  memories 
of  the  past,"  he  went  on,  assuming  lightness  of 
speech  and  manner.  "They  are  too  dark  for  some 
of  us — but — I  was  only  stating  to  you  my  reasons 
for  giving  up  my  pupils,  if  I  should  so  decide.  Tha 
majority  of  them  are  not  'Maries,'  by  any  means, 
only  anxious,  plodding  students.  They  vex  me. 
However,  I  shall  retain  my  city  studio,  and  a  few 


282  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

of  my  pupils.  It  might  not  be  well  to  retire  alto- 
gether. The  question  is,  would  I  be  welcome  here? 
Perhaps  I  should  say,  Marie  needs  me  for  the  pro- 
secution of  her  studies — she  is  just  where  she  would 
most  miss  their  discontinuance." 

"Professor,  you  are  very  welcome  to  stay  if  you 
wish,"  said  Cousin  Selina,  with  heroic  emphasis. 

"My  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "how  I  thank  you!" 
and  at  that  very  moment  Marie's  happy  laugh  rang 
out  so  clear  and  silvery  that  one  might  have 
thought  that  she  too  was  rejoicing  over  Cousin 
Selina's  verdict. 

The  girls  did  a  good  deal  of  visiting  in  each 
other's  rooms,  which  were  divided  by  the  hall.  To- 
night it  was  Marie's  turn  and  though  there  was  a 
bright  fire,  she  put  up  the  guard,  donned  a  loose 
dress,  and  tripped  across  to  Anne's  bed  room. 

There  was  no  light  there  save  that  of  the  fire,  and 
the  flames  darted  hither  and  thither,  throwing  gro- 
tesque shadows  on  the  ceiling  and  the  walls.  Anne 
sat  lost  in  thought  in  her  own  little  rocking  chair, 
and  Marie,  as  usual,  took  a  cricket  and  sat  at  her 
feet. 

"Did  you  ever  read  fairy  stories?"  Anne  asked, 
as,  her  hands  clasped  above  her  head  and  her  long 


THE   REAL  RALPH  283 

fair  hair  falling  in  uncoiled  tresses,  she  greeted  Ma- 
rie's coming  with  a  smile. 

"Yes,  but  they  were  all  Swiss  fairies,"  said  Ma- 
rie. 

"I  suppose  fairy  stories  are  all  pretty  much  alike, 
and  the  fairies  too.  But  a  Swiss  fairy  must  be  de- 
lightful. I  was  thinking  how  much  like  some  of 
these  stories  my  brother's  rescue  was.  I  can  hardly 
realize  it,  now.  And  the  two  are  so  much  alike — 
still  there's  a  difference.  What  is  it?" 

"One  Ralph  is  handsomer  than  the  other,"  said 
Marie,  promptly. 

"Which  one?"  Anne  asked. 

"The  one  who  has  been  with  us  all  along,"  said 
Marie. 

"Yes,  I  thought  you  would  say  so,"  Anne  re- 
sumed. "In  some  respects  I  agree  with  you.  His 
beauty  is  more  delicate,  his  features  more  refined — • 
but  there  is  a  certain  strength  of  character  in  my 
Ralph,  utterly  wanting  in  the  other.  My  Ralph  is 
strong — the  other  is  weak." 

"Wait  till  he  gets  well,"  said  Marie.  "He  is  now 
entirely  at  his  ease  with  no  secrets  to  trouble  him. 
It  is  the  first  time  that  he  has  been  at  ease,  remem- 
ber." 


284  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN 

"Did  you  linow  the  Professor  intends  to  stay  here 

this  winter?"  Anne  asked. 

•"No,  but  is  he  ?  Oh,  I  am  so  glad !"  Marie  said, 
her  face  glowing  in  the  fire  light. 

"Of  course,  you  ought  to  be,"  resumed  Anne, 
"since  he  stays  entirely  on  your  account.  You 
are  getting  to  be  such  a  little  princess  that  you 
must  be  thought  of  before  all  the  rest.  Fancy,  while 
I  am  plodding  on  at  Aunt  Martha's,  you  will  all  be 
enjoying  skating  and  sleigh  riding,  and  country 
parties.  I  certainly  shall  envy  you.  The  Ralphs 
are  going  to  adopt  each  other  as  cousins — and,  of 
course,  they  will  always  be  on  hand.  You  will  have 
no  end  of  escorts." 

"Maybe  your  Aunt  Martha  will  let  you  stay  out 
here,"  said  Marie. 

"I  don't  know" — Anne  shook  her  head — "she 
was  to  keep  me  till  I  am  of  age.  That  will  be  next 
year — but  between  now  and  then  I  could  have  such 
fun !" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Marie,  "but  I'm  going  to 
work  hard  this  winter — harder  than  ever.  And  so 
year  after  year  I  must  work,  he  says,  till  I  am 
twenty." 

"So  would  I,  willingly,  if  I  had  your  genius,"  was 


THE   REAL   RALPH  285 

Anne's  answer.  "Don't  you  think,"  she  resumed, 
"the  Professor  seems  very  fond  of  Cousin  Selina?" 

"How  can  he  help  it?  So  we  all  are/'  Marie  an- 
swered, not  catching  the  drift  of  Anne's  speech. 

"But  I  think  sometime,"  said  Anne,  taking  her 
hands  down  and  clasping  them  about  her  knees, 
"she  may  be  the  Professor's  wife." 

"Oh,  no,  never  never!"  exclaimed  Marie,  with 
an  expression  of  repugnance. 

"Well,  I  hope  she  will,"  said  Anne,  "just  to  spite 
— no  that's  not  the  right  word,  but  just  to  surprise 
all  the  aunts.  Think,  then  she  would  be  as  rich  as 
any  of  them,  richer.  I'm  sure  the  Professor  is  very 
rich." 

"But  he  will  never  marry,"  said  Marie;  "I've 
heard  him  say  so.  And  neither  will  Cousin  Selina." 

"You  don't  know,"  was  Anne's  answer,  delivered 
"in  rather  a  sleepy  tone.  "I  most  devoutly  wish  it 
might  be.  Oh,  to  see  Aunt  Hannah  meet  Cousin 
Selina  riding  in  her  own  carriage !"  and  she  clapped 
her  hands.  "Aunt  Hannah  is  such  a  very  disagree- 
able rich  person,  and  Cousin  Selina  would  be  so 
sweet  and  kind  with  her  money." 

Marie  gave  a  faint  little  smile,  and  rising,  pre- 
pared to  go  to  her  own  room.  She  was  half  across 


286  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

the  hall,  when  she  heard  the  hunchback,  speaking 
in  imploring  but  subdued  tones.  Leaning  over  the 
banister  to  see  whom  he  was  talking  to,  she  dis- 
cerned a  dark  figure  busy  buttoning  the  lapels  of 
a  coat  that  seemed  very  obstinate  under  his  hand. 

"Don't  go  to-night,  master,"  he  said,  touching 
the  folds  of  his  cape.  "It  has  come  on  to  rain  and 
the  wind  is  blowing  a  hurricane — there,  listen." 

"If  it  rained  pitchforks  tine  downwards,  my  good 
fellow,  and  there  were  a  hundred  hurricanes  abroad 
in  the  land,  I  would  go  out.  Don't  you  remember 
the  last  twentieth  of  September?" 

"Yes,  I  remember,"  the  Italian  said,  slowly — 
"and  it  was  the  whole  night  I  watched  up  for  you." 

"Don't  watch  for  me  to-night,  mind  I  tell  you. 
Let  the  fire  go  out,  and  go  to  sleep,"  was  the 
response.  "Why  do  you  worry,  my  good  fellow?; 
I  can  take  care  of  myself.  I  tell  you  I  must  go 
out  tonight,  though  the  heavens  fall." 

"Take  me  with  you  then,  master,"  pleaded  the 
other. 

"I  don't  want  you,  my  man,  I'm  best  by  myself. 
When  I  take  these  freaks  of  travel  I  don't  want  any- 
one to  interfere  with  me.  Sometimes  I'm  danger- 
ous— so  go  upstairs,  go  to  bed  and  go  to  sleep." 


THE   REAL  RALPH  287 

The  Professor  opened  the  door.  The  storm  had 
come  up  so  suddenly  and  stealthily  that  the  great 
gust  of  wind  that  ensued  rushed  across  the  corri- 
dor and  blew  chill  and  wet  into  Marie's  face.  Once 
she  was  on  the  point  of  running  downstairs  and 
adding  her  protest  against  his  going  out,  but  her 
common  sense  restrained  her;  and  she  crept  into 
her  room  wondering  and  unhappy.  Why  had  the 
Professor  gone  out  into  this  storm?  And  why  on 
this  particular  night,  which  it  seemed  was  an  anni- 
versary? What  had  happened  to  ruffle  his  mind, 
generally  so  composed?  At  that  moment  the  clock 
struck  eleven,  and  Marie  hurried  into  her  room  and 
to  bed,  where  she  lay  thinking  over  the  matter  till 
midnight.  Wilder  and  wilder  grew  the  storm. 
Where  was  the  Professor,  and  why  had  he  gone  to 
breast  its  fury? 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AN  UNLOCKED  FOR  EVENT. 

Marie,  on  shrewdly  questioning,  the  next  morn- 
ing learned  that  no  one  but  herself  knew  that  the 
Professor  had  left  the  house  on  the  night  before, 
for  some  nocturnal  reason.  The  family  were  assem- 
bled in  the  breakfast  room,  the  two  Ralphs  sat  to- 
gether conversing  upon  farming  matters,  and  Anne 
had  her  hands  full  of  wools  which  she  was  disen- 
tangling, prior  to  winding  it. 

Marie  asked  if  anyone  had  seen  the  Professor. 

No,  no  one  had  seen  him,  though  usually  he 
rode  horseback  in  the  early  morning. 

Then  Marie  betook  herself  to  her  own  thoughts, 
wondering  if  the  master  had  come  back  at  all,  and 
if  so  in  what  mood.  She  shuddered  as  she  thought 
of  the  storm,  whose  violence  was  emphasized  by 
the  broken  branches  that  strewed  the  path  outside, 
and  the  demolition  of  sundry  chicken  coops  and 
damage  to  outhouses.  She  could  hardly  conceal 

her  delight  when  he  made  his  appearance  at  the 
(288) 


AN    UNLOCKED    FOR    EVENT  289 

breakfast  table  serene  and  smiling,  as  full  of  energy 
and  anecdote  as  ever.  The  two  Ralphs, were  also 
disposed  to  comment  and  conversation,  and  all 
noticed  that  the  sick  boy  was  promptly  throwing 
aside  the  role  of  invalidism,  that  there  was  a  ring 
in  his  voice,  a  light  in  his  eyes  that  told  of  returning 
health  and  strength  unhindered  by  a  degenerate 
conscience  or  a  troubled  mind.  Nor  was  it  long  be- 
fore he  began  to  take  an  interest  in  the  farm  work, 
and  lend  a  hand  in  the  various  enterprises  inaugur- 
ated by  the  new  man  and  the  Professor.  Among 
these  latter  was  a  machine  for  dropping  corn  which 
Anne's  brother  was  working  hard  to  perfect  in  hope 
of  receiving  valuable  returns. 

The  Professor  still  rotated  between  town  and 
country,  retaining  in  the  former  a  few  of  his  pupils, 
those  in  whose  progress  he  was  interested. 

His  return  was  always  looked  for  with  pleasure. 
On  Monday  afternoons,  the  two  girls  drove  to  the 
depot  for  him,  and  on  their  way  back  made  him 
rehearse  his  last  two  days'  experience — how  Miss 
Jack  met  him,  and  what  messages  she  sent — for 
she  always  remembered  that  they  wanted  news  of 
the  old  house.  It  was  assuredly  comforting,  Marie 
thought,  to  see  the  look  of  delight  on  his  face  at 


?90  THH   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

sight  of  home  folks,  and  she  hardly  knew  how  much 
his  presence  meant  until  after  one  of  these  ab- 
sences. 

One  Monday  the  girls  drove  down  to  the  station, 
as  usual,  and  waited  for  the  train.  It  was  dark  by 
the  time  they  arrived  and  a  drizzling  rain  had  set 
in  just  copious  enough  to  envelope  everything  in 
a  cloud  of  mist. 

"The  train  must  be  late,"  Anne  said,  looking  at 
her  watch. 

"No,  it's  early  dusk,  and  the  rain  makes  it  darker, 
makes  everything  look  so  ghost-like  and  weird,  like 
things  in  the  Swiss  fairy  tales.  Oh,  they  are  so  full 
of  ghosts,"  and  she  laughed  a  little.  She  was  al- 
ways in  the  best  of  spirits  when  the  beloved  master 
was  coming. 

"It  will  be  quite  dark  by  the  time  we  return," 
said  Anne,  who  was  getting  restless. 

"I  know,  but  then  he  will  be  with  us,  and  the 
horse  knows  the  road" — Marie  responded. 

"Some  way  I  wish  one  of  the  boys  had  come," 
said  Anne. 

"I  know  which  one,"  Marie  said,  teasingly. 

"Why  Brother  Ralph,  of  course,  but  he  is  so 


AN  UNLOCKED  FOR  EVENT  291 

taken  up  with  that  machine  of  his,"  she  added,  has- 
tily, "that  I  never  like  to  ask  him." 

"You  might  have  asked  Ralph  the  second,"  said  - 
Marie,  still  in  a  teasing  mood. 

"Oh,  hush,"  was  the  response — and  Anne  looked 
out  upon  a  shapeless  object  going  by,  that  proved 
to  be  a  man  with  a  waterpail.  Presently  he  lighted 
up  the  station,  and  the  road  and  the  shining  rails 
began  to  tremble  with  little  shafts  of  light,  alter- 
nating with  the  shadows  of  the  man  passing  to  and 
fro  in  the  depot.  Presently  the  distant  panting  and 
rumbling  of  the  train  caught  the  ear,  and  the  girls 
drew  the  carriage  deeper  in  the  shadow,  and  waited 
till  the  terrible  eye  of  red  flame  came  within  sight. 

There  is  something  frightful  in  the  incoming  of 
a  train  in  the  darkness,  no  matter  how  secure  one  is 
from  danger.  To  the  strongest  mind  the  huge, 
uncanny  monster,  so  gentle  under  controlling 
hands,  and  yet  so  irresponsible,  gives  a  sense  of 
fear  difficult  to  analyze,  and  Marie  and  Anne  sat  in 
suspense  not  unmixed  with  dread,  waiting  the  com- 
ing of  the  Professor. 

The  train  stopped — one  man  cried  out  to  another 
as  the  mail  bag  was  thrown  to  the  platform,  and  on 
went  the  engine  with  its  complement  of  cars,  and 


292  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

all  was  silence.  No  footsteps  followed.  The  girls 
looked  out  eagerly  and  wistfully,  but  there  was  no 
response  to  their  call.  The  second  and  third  time 
they  repeated  the  master's  name,  but  only  the  wind 
sighing  in  the  tops  of  the  tall  pines,  and  the  patter- 
ing of  rain,  answered  the  cry. 

"Oh,  what  has  happened  to  him?"  cried  Marie. 
"Do  you  suppose  he  stepped  off  in  the  dark. and" — 
she  could  get  no  further,  so  extreme  was  her  terror. 

"No — I  don't  suppose  any  such  thing,"  said 
Anne.  "He  probably  lost  the  train." 

"But  he  never  did  before,"  Marie  went  on,  more 
miserable  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  The 
absence  of  the  master  engendered  all  sorts  of  fore- 
bodings. 

"Hold  the  reins/'  said  Anne,  "I  am  going  to  get 
out." 

"And  leave  me  here  alone?"  was  Marie's  re- 
joinder. 

"Yes,  just  for  a  minute.  I'm  going  to  look  in 
the  depot.  If  I  don't  I  shall  not  go  back  with  a 
clear  conscience.  Of  course,  for  once  he  lost  the 
train.  There's  always  a  first  time." 

She  sprang  from  the  carriage  and  came  running 
back  in  a  moment. 


AN  UNLOCKED   FOR  EVENT  293 

"No,  the  station  man  says  nobody  got  out.  One 
passenger  took  the  train,  but  he  is  positive  no  one 
got  out.  So  we  shall  have  to  drive  home  without 
him,"  and  she  turned  the  horse's  head  towards  the 
road. 

The  drive  was  a  silent  one.  Both  girls  were  dis- 
appointed, though  Marie  pictured  to  herself  every 
sort  of  accident,  while  Anne  with  composure  un- 
abated, only  said  to  herself  that  he  had  lost  the 
train,  and  would  be  out  later. 

"You'll  see  him  sail  serenely  in  at  breakfast 
time,"  she  said,  as  they  saw  at  last  the  lights  of  the 
farm  house.  But  Marie  was  silent — she  was  not  to 
be  comforted. 

The  boys  came  out  as  the  carriage  stopped,  and 
put  the  horse  up.  Then  they  all  met  at  the  sup- 
per table,  all  but  the  Professor,  and  everybody  made 
guesses  why  he  had  not  come,  everybody  that  is, 
but  Marie.  She  ate  her  supper  silently.  It  seemed 
so  strange  without  him,  and  then  something  might 
have  happened. 

Something  had  happened. 

The  Professor  had  spent  all  Saturday  at  the  stu- 
dio, and  Monday  was  a  specially  busy  day.  In  vain 
he  tried  to  get  through  with  the  lessons.  Inter- 


294  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

rnptions  kept  occurring,  old  friends  called  in  and 
detained  him,  and  lastly.  Miss  Jack  came  in  her 
queer  costume  with  a  little  poem  which  he  had 
promised  to  set  to  music.  He  had  to  be  polite  to 
her,  though  she  detained  him  five  minutes  beyond 
his  usual  time  for  leaving. 

"Now  we  must  rush,"  he  said  to  the  Italian— 
"I've  just  twenty  minutes  to  get  the  train." 

"And  I  am  to  stay  till  tomorrow,"  said  the  other. 

"Yes,  to  bring  me  the  packages  that  will  come 
in  the  morning." 

The  two  men  went  out,  the  Italian  taking  the 
Professor's  bag,  but  as  the  day  had  been  prolific 
in  interruptions,  so  the  evening  was  destined  to  be 
unpropitious  to  the  travellers.  The  horse  cars  were 
stopped  on  the  drawer  of  the  bridge  fully  ten  min- 
utes. Then  there  seemed  to  be  ail  endless  getting 
off  and  on,  and  finally,  when  the  Professor  and  his 
men  reached  the  depot,  the  cars  had  just  started. 

"Now,  what  will  you  do?"  asked  the  Italian. 

"Stay  and  take  the  eleven  train,"  was  the  re- 
sponse. 

"Six  hours!"  said  the  man. 

"I'll  find  a  way  to  pass  the  time,"  was  the  re- 
sponse. 


AN  UNLOCKED   FOR  EVENT  295 

"But  it's  rainy  and  disagreeable." 

"I  have  books  and  papers,"  the  Professor  said. 

"Then  I  will  go  back  unless  you  need  me,"  said 
the  man. 

"I  do  not  need  you ;  I  can  look  out  for  myself," 
was  the  answer — and  the  man  went  reluctantly  off. 

For  nearly  an  hour  the  Professor  read  the  even- 
ing paper.  Then  he  went  to  the  door  of  the  station 
and  looked  out.  A  fine  rain  was  falling  and  the 
streets  looked  dirty  and  uncomfortable  in  the  gas- 
light. It  was  a  very  uncomfortable  evening  for 
pedestrians,  and  for  some  time  the  Professor 
watched  the  passersby  with  a  sort  of  laggard  in- 
terest. 

Presently  there  was  an  altercation  on  the  street 
between  two  cabmen,  and  a  crowd  gathered.  As  it 
dispersed,  the  Professor  was  seized  with  an  irresisti- 
ble desire  to  mingle  with  the  throng,  and  having 
several  hours  to  wait,  determined  to  spend  them  in 
exercise. 

Down  one  street  and  up  another,  past  music 
halls,  theatres,  restaurants — for  all  these  abounded 
in  that  part  of  the  city,  he  walked  on,  until  suddenly 
he  came  to  a  standstill  opposite  a  highly  decorated 
window  and  a  door  lighted  with  crimson  shades. 


296  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

The  place  seemed  to  attract  his  attention,  and  he 
looked  about  him  as  one  looks  at  familiar  things, 
yet  with  a  sense  of  hidden  pain.  For  some  mo- 
ments he  stood  irresolute,  and  under  his  breath 
murmured — ''The  twentieth  of  September." 

'I  might  as  well  go  in,"  he  muttered  between  his 
teeth.  "Xobody  knows  me,  and  I  should  like  to 
see  if  it  seems  like  the  same  old  place — and  yet  what 
is  the  use  of  opening  the  old  wound?  But,  yes — I 
am  impelled  by  something  beyond  me — I  must  go 
in." 

He  opened  the  door  upon  a  brightly  lighted  in- 
terior. At  the  end  of  the  shop  was  a  stage.  Ah, 
well  he  remembered  it,  for  to  make  a  few  extra  dol- 
lars he  had  in  the  years  gone  by  played  on  that 
same  platform,  although  the  work  revolted  him. 

Set  at  short  distances  apart  were  a  dozen  or  more 
round  tables,  at  which  coffee  and  other  refresh- 
ments were  dispensed  to  thirsty  customers.  There 
were  not  as  yet  many  persons  assembled,  only  here 
and  there  one  or  two  rough  looking  men  were 
playing  games,  and  the  clerks  stood  idly  behind  the 
bar. 

The  Professor,  as  if  drawn  by  a  magnet,  chose 
one  particular  table  a  long  distance  down  the  room 


AN   UNLOCKED    FOR   EVENT  297 

and  quite  near  the  stage  on  which  stood  a  dingy- 
looking  grand  piano,  and  at  the  piano  sat  a  slender 
young  fellow  turning  over  some  manuscript  music 
and  evidently  seeking  some  particular  sheet. 

The  stage  was  well  lighted,  there  were  pictures 
— mere  daubs  of  paintings,  hanging  on  the  wall, 
whose  brilliancy  of  color  offset  the  glaring  defects 
of  their  execution. 

The  Professor  sat  down,  still  with  his  hat  on,  and 
seemed  for  awhile  to  be  lost  in  reverie.  His  coun- 
tenance took  on  a  peculiarly  gloomy  expression, 
and  when  one  of  the  clerks  came  up  ordered  hot 
lemonade.  He  started  every  time  the  door  opened. 

Little  by  little  the  saloon  began  to  fill  up.  A 
well-dressed  young  girl,  modest  and  honest-look- 
ing, came  presently  on  the  stage,  and  sang  one  of 
the  songs  of  the  day. 

Then  some  one  cried  out  noisily  for  "Craik !"  and 
another  exclaimed,  "Come  on,  Johnny!" 

At  this  the  Professor  started  and  a  haunted  look 
came  into  his  face.  What  did  it  mean,  that  cry? 
Had  they  discovered  him?  Did  anyone  there  re- 
member that  terrible  night  on  the  twentieth  of 
September,  when  a  fugitive  from  justice  rushed  out 
into  the  driving  rain,  leaving  his  victim  dead  and 
bleeding,  behind  him? 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

PEACE,  HOPE  AND  HOME.  AT  LAST. 

So  complicated  were  his  sensations,  so  dazed  was 
he,  that  he  instinctively  felt  like  seizing  his  hat  and 
rushing  out  into  the  stormy  night.  And  had  not 
a  strange  vision  arrested  him,  he  would  have  acted 
over  again  the  tragedy  of  that  fearful  hour. 

A  man  tall  and  impressive  in  form  and  face,  came 
out  upon  the  stage  amidst  a  storm  of  applause,  and 
cries  of  "Our  Johnny  !  Our  Johnny !" 

Across  his  forehead  was  a  deep  red  seam,  a  scar 
that  stood  boldly  out  under  the  dark  line  of  his 
hair. 

Like  one  turned  into  stone,  the  Professor  sat, 
unmoving,  scarcely  breathing.  Had  the  grave 
given  up  its  dead?  Was  he  dreaming?  There  had 
been  a  night  when  he  had  fled  from  this  place  with 
the  stain  of  a  great  crime  on  his  soul.  Many  times 
he  had  pictured  a  lonely  grave — a  bereaved  mother 
— many  times  in  his  exile  to  the  land  of  his  birth, 

he  had  been  tempted  to  do  some  deadly  thing  to 
(298) 


PEACE,   HOPE  AND  HOME,    AT   LAST  299 

himself  that  he  might  extinguish  the  memory  of 
that  hour. 

Presently  the  old  sweet  tones  rolled  out,  the 
tenor  that  but  for  the  man's  love  for  strong  drink 
would  have  made  him  the  idol  of  the  world. 

The  Professor  sat  as  one  under  a  spell.  An  un- 
dersized man  had  seated  himself  at  the  same  table. 
The  tall  glass  of  smoking  lemonade  stood  un- 
touched. He  was  listening  to  that  marvelous 
voice. 

Once  he  leaned  over  to  speak  with  the  under- 
sized man,  who  was  evidently  a  habitue  of  the 
place. 

"Is  that  the  original  John  Craik — the  one  that 
sang  here  some  ten  years  ago?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice. 

"The  same  Johnny,  you  bet,"  was  the  answer — 
"Same  Johnny,  same  voice.  Wonderful  how  he 
keeps  it.  Ever  heard  it  before?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Professor,  "but  not — I  mean — 
there  was  a  difference.  I  never  noticed — the  scar." 

"No,  that  came  of  being  laid  out  for  dead/'  the 
man  said,  leisurely  fingering  the  straws  in  a  glass 
dish  beside  him.  "He  was  took  up  for  dead,  and 
laid  for  dead  in  the  orspital  two  days.  It  come  of 


300  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

a  quarrel  with  the  fiddler  about  some  engagement 
or  something,  I  don't  rightly  know  what — only 
Johnny's  head  was  cut  by  a  blow,  and  the  fellow 
escaped,  and  far  as  I  know  ain't  never  been  heard 
of  sense.  1  think  the  man  with  the  fiddle  knocked 
Johnny  off  the  stage,  and  his  head  struck  on  an 
edge  of  marble  somewhere  thereabouts." 

"And — it — really — did — not  kill  him,"  said  the 
Professor  with  a  gasp,  unbuttoning  the  collar  of  his 
coat. 

"Well,  hardly,"  was  the  answer,  "as  you  can  see 
for  yourself,  and  hear,  as  for  that.  Good  thing,  for 
he  had  an  old  mother  to  support ;  she's  alive  now, 
in  fact,  and  his  brother  died  and  left  some  kids,  and 
he  takes  care  o'  them.  Good  hearted  fellow  is 
Johnny,  on'y  he's  his  own  worst  enemy.  He  will 
crook  his  elbow  over  much.  Don't  seem  to  be  no 
cure  for  that.  Why,  bless  my  soul,  if  I  had  his 
voice  I'd  make  my  everlastin'  fortune,  an'  so  might 
he  if  he  would  mend  his  ways.  Beg  pardon,  sir,  but 
you  look  sorter  sick.  Anything  I  can  do  for  you?" 

"No — I — I  merely  want  air — it — it's  stifling 
here,"  was  the  answer  in  a  faint  voice.  "I'm  all 
right  now,  thank  you."  He  seized  the  glass  of  still 
steaming  lemonade  and  drank  off  its  contents. 


•   PEACE,   HOPE  AND  HOME,    AT   LAST.  301 

A  mist  had  come  before  his  eyes,  a  singular 
tremor  in  all  his  limbs.  The  transition  from  acute 
anguish,  from  the  frightful  strain  upon  his  nerves 
that  had  at  times  almost  paralyzed  his  manhood, 
was  too  much  for  his  strength.  The  lemonade  did 
something  to  restore  him,  but  he  still  felt  dizzy  and 
faint,  and  disinclined  to  move.  And  yet  there  was 
a  sweet  delight  at  his  heart,  that  thrilled  him  as  he 
sat  there,  struggling  for  composure.  He  was  no 
longer  a  criminal  who  had  eluded  justice.  His  vic- 
tim, whose  cold-blooded  language  had  moved  him 
to  wrath,  had  been  living  and  prosperous  all  these 
years,  while  he  had  suffered  untold  agonies,  and 
moved  about  as  one  with  a  price  set  on  his  head. 
A  series  of  revolving  pictures  came  before  his 
mind's  vision — first  and  most  terrible  of  all  the  fall 
and  cry  of  his  victim.  Then  he  saw  himself  in  hid- 
ing, no  one  to  shield  him  but  the  faithful  wife — 
then  disguised  as  a  tramp  leaving  the  city — -then  a 
common  hand  on  a  ship — and  lastly,  a  fugitive  in 
the  land  of  his  birth,  fair  Switzerland.  Under  an 
assumed  name  he  made  his  way  and  earned  his 
bread  by  playing  the  violin,  hearing,  but  very  oc- 
casionally, and  at  last  not  at  all,  from  his  little 
family.  Some  guiding  hand  led  him  to  a  distant 


302  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

relative,  of  whose  existence  he  had  not  even  known, 
one  of  the  richest,  most  powerful  men  in  the  coun- 
try. By  some  means  the  relationship  became  evi- 
dent, and  the  new  found  kinsman  adopted  him  for 
his  heir  on  condition  that  he  made  his  home  with 
him,  and  was  willing  to  become  a  proficient  on  the 
violin. 

A  fugitive  from  justice — as  he  believed  himself 
to  be — nothing  could  have  been  more  welcome 
than  this  agreement.  No  letters  ever  reached  him 
now,  and  he  dared  not  put  himself  in  communica- 
tion with  any  friend,  but  when  his  kinsman  died, 
he  made  his  way  at  once  to  America.  Grief  and 
years  and  remorse  had  changed  him.  His  abund- 
ant brown  hair  had  turned  white.  No  one  would 
recognize  in  him  the  handsome  young  man,  who 
to  eke  out  his  scant  salary,  played  occasionally  in 
down  town  music  halls. 

All  these  mental  pictures  the  man  saw  as  he  sat 
there  not  yet  realizing  the  fact  of  his  freedom. 

Slowly  it  dawned  upon  him.  The  horrible  bur- 
den of  years  rolled  from  his  weary  shoulders.  Once 
more  he  was  a  man  among  men.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  his  heart  would  burst  with  pure  gratitude.  No 
longer  need  of  dread  in  meeting  the  eyes  of  inno- 


PEACE,    HOPE    AND    HOME,    AT    LAST  303 

cence.  No  need  of  fear  or  shame — no  need  of 
penance  which  a  morbid  imagination  forced  upon 
him.  He  could  breathe  the  free  air,  a  free  man. 
He  could  look  at  the  sunshine  without  remember- 
ing that  somewhere  it  lay  on  an  unhallowed  grave. 

Oh,  the  joy  of  it !  the  glory  of  it ! 

Better  than  all,  he  could  claim  his  own.  Never 
to  shrink  from  accusing  glances  again — never  to 
wake  up  with  a  dread  of  the  dawn,  never  to  sink  to 
sleep  with  the  fear  of  an  unholy  death. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  just  the  hour  at 
which  his  train  started.  No  going  home  tonight 
for  him.  Never  mind,  time  was  nothing  to  him 
now.  Tomorrow  would  do  just  as  well. 

He  took  his  satchel  from  the  depot,  and  went 
to  a  hotel.  His  step  was  light  and  springy,  like  a 
boy's.  He  even  hummed  as  he  walked.  Sweet  Ma- 
rie was  disappointed  no  doubt,  at  his  non-appear- 
ance. No  matter,  tomorrow  would  recompense 
her. 

He  took  breakfast  at  the  hotel,  refreshed,  reju- 
venated. It  was  a  sunny  day,  and  he  made  amends 
for  all  his  old  grudges  against  the  sunshine — which 
was  sometimes  intolerable  to  him — by  inhaling 
great  draughts  of  the  inspiriting  air. 


304  THE  YELLOW  VIOLIN. 

"I  never  knew  before  what  real  happiness  meant" 
— he  said  to  himself.  At  the  depot  he  met  the 
Italian,  who  seemed  surprised  to  see  him,  as  well  he 
might  with  that  look  on  his  face. 

"You  have  the  bundles,  I  see,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor. "Did  they  all  come?" 

"Yes,  all,"  the  man  answered,  still  puzzled. 

"I  am  glad,  for  they  are  presents,"  the  Professor 
said.  "I  preferred  to  stay  in  the  city  to  going  home 
at  midnight,  and  now  I  have  you  for  company.  We 
will  have  a  glorification  this  week,  and  little  Miss 
Jack  must  come  out  and  enjoy  the  festival.  Plenty 
of  lanterns,  plenty  of  nice  things  to  eat  and  a  moon- 
light night  at  the  Oaks.  I'm  a  new  man ;  say,  boy, 
look  at  me." 

"You  are  happier,  my  master,"  was  the  simple 
reply. 

"Happier — why,  yes,  and  better  and  richer.  No 
more  twentieth  of  September  escapades.  I  shall 
never  be  a  trouble  to  you  again." 

"You  never  were  a  trouble,  my  master.  It  has 
always  been  a  pleasure  to  serve  you." 

"Henceforth,  my  boy,  you  serve  me  as  one 
friend  serves  another.  Your  time  shall  be  your  own 
and  you  may  teach  if  you  like.  I  shall  give  it  up.  I 


PEACE,   HOPE  AND  HOME.   AT  LA3T  305 

needed  it  to  forget — to  forget — now  there  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  forget." 

All  the  way  out  to  the  station  he  ran  on  in  this 
fashion.  The  Italian  listened  in  fascinated  silence, 
wondering  what  had  occurred  to  give  the  master 
such  wonderful  spirits.  Hitherto  he  had  been 
moody,  indifferent,  silent,  at  times  most  miserable. 
Now  his  very  face  had  undergone  a  transformation ; 
there  was  a  suggestion  of  youth  in  it — but  for  the 
gray  hair  it  would  be  youthful — the  young  man 
thought. 

At  the  depot  they  found  Ralph  the  first  waiting 
for  them.  He  also  noticed  the  change  in  the  Pro- 
fessor, and  had  hardly  ceased  marvelling  at  it  when 
they  reached  the  farm  house. 

Then  for  the  first  time  the  master's  face  grew 
grave,  shadowed  with  thought,  perhaps  with  ap- 
prehension. 

Cousin  Selina  was  in  her  own  room,  reading  let- 
ters that  had  come  by  the  morning's  post. 

The  Professor  threw  himself  in  a  high  back  chair 
and  listened,  as  from  Marie's  room  came  the  rich 
notes  of  the  violin. 

'The  child  is  practicing,"  he  thought,  and  drew 


306  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

a  long  breath.  Presently  Cousin  Selina  came  in, 
her  pretty  grave  face  alight  with  welcome. 

"We  expected  you  last  night  and  again  this 
morning,"  she  said.  "I  am  so  glad  nothing  has 
happened  and  you  are  with  us  again." 

Marie  from  her  window,  as  she  happened  to 
turn  her  eyes  in  that  direction,  saw  the  carriage  on 
its  way  to  the  stable.  She  raised  the  window. 
Ralph,  laughing,  nodded,  and  she  threw  her  violin 
and  bow  on  the  bed,  and  flew  downstairs. 

The  door  opened — the  master  had  just  risen  as 
he  spoke  to  Cousin  Selina.  A  great  joy  brightened 
his  face.  Instinctively  he  opened  his  arms  wide  and 
the  girl  ran  into  them.  He  clasped  her  to  his 
bosom,  raining  kisses  upon  her  face,  her  hair.  Anne 
who  came  in  just  then  stood  wondering. 

Again  and  again  he  pressed  Marie  to  his  bosom; 
it  seemed  as  if  he  never  would  be  satisfied. 

"All  this  time,  and  she  has  not  known  me,"  he 
said  with  a  shaking  voice — "all  this  time  and  I 
have  known  her,  consumed  with  heart  hunger.  She 
is  my  own  child,  my  own  blessed,  sweetest  Marie — 
and  I  could  never  acknowledge  her  until  now." 

"And  you  are  my  father?"  cried  Marie — as  he  let 
her  loose  for  a  moment — "my  own  father !" 


PEACE,   HOPE   AND  HOME,   AT   LAST  307 

She  stood  breathless,  her  lips  apart,  her  eyes  wide 
open  and  sparkling. 

"Yes,  my  own,  but  when  you  saw  me  last,  almost 
ten  years  ago,  care  had  not  deepened  the  hues  of 
my  face  nor  trouble  changed  my  hair  to  white." 

"And  why  didn't  you  tell  me  at  first?"  asked  Ma- 
rie. "I  always  loved  you — I  always  felt  that  you 
were  near  and  dear  to  me.  Oh !  father,  father !" 
and  she  fell  sobbing  almost  hysterically  into  his 
arms  again.  "Don't  mind  me ;  I'm  crying  because 
I'm  so — so — happy!  Oh,  it's  so  good  to  say 
'father.'  ' 

"Sweetest,  you  shall  know  all  about  the  reason 
why,  sometime,"  was  the  professor's  answer.  "Now 
I  want  you  to  be  happy  and  I  shall  do  all  in  my 
power  to  make  you  so." 

"You  always  have,"  she  sobbed,  clinging  to  him. 

"And  now  let's  see  what  is  in  these  parcels/'  he 
said  after  Marie  was  soothed  into  silence,  and  soon 
they  were  all  engaged  in  undoing  wrappings  that 
disclosed  gifts  for  every  one  in  particular,  a  dia- 
mond solitaire  for  Cousin  Selina,  and  a  fine  pearl 
necklace  for  Anne,  whose  love  of  pearl  ornaments 
amounted  to  a  passion. 

There  were  some  exquisitely  delicate  tools  for 


308  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

Anne's  brother,  and  a  charming  set  of  books  for 
the  other  Ralph. 

"I  cannot  accept  this,"  Cousin  Selina  said,  "it  is 
far,  far  too  rich  and  costly.  I  never  wore  a  diamond 
in  my  life." 

"Come  here,  my  dear  lady,"  said  the  Professor.  "I 
will  take  the  ring  back,  but  only  to  perform  a  little 
ceremony.  Now  please  hold  out  the  third  finger  of 
your  left  hand." 

He  spoke  as  one  having  authority,  and  Cousin 
Selina  being  at  times  a  timid  little  soul,,  held  out  her 
hand. 

"There,"  he  said,  with  a  look  of  satisfaction,  as 
he  pressed  it  in  place,  "that  ring  must  stay  there. 
Sweetest  Marie,  nor  I,  cannot  thank  you  sufficiently 
for  your  love  and  kindness  to  the  little  waif  who 
had  no  home,  and  knew  not  that  she  had  a  living 
relative  in  the  whole  world.  A  thousand  diamond 
rings  would  not  repay  you  for  the  sweet  attention 
and  motherly  devotion  you  have  lavished  on  my 
motherless  child." 

Never  was  there  a  happier  household  than  that 
one  under  the  Oaks,  and  all  day  long  the  wonder 
and  pleasure  kept  deepening. 

In  a  week   Marie's  birthday  would  come,  and 


PEACE,   HOPE   AND  HOME,   AT   LAST  309 

then  her  father  had  determined  to  give  a  fete  such 
as  had  never  been  seen  in  those  parts  before.  All 
the  people  round  about  were  invited,  and  the  en- 
tertainment was  to  take  place  on  the  lawn.  Marie 
was  to  be  the  queen  of  the  occasion,  and  the  home 
was  transformed  into  a  hive  of  working  bees,  mak- 
ing ready  for  the  festivities. 

On  the  same  night,  when  the  party  was  well 
under  way,  a  poor  widow  sat  in  her  little  home  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  city,  gazing  with  unbelieving 
eyes  on  a  check  which  had  been  sent  by  some  one 
who  evidently  knew  of  her  trials  and  her  poverty. 
It  was  for  five  hundred  dollars  and  intended  for  her 
use  alone.  The  writer  promised  her  the  same 
amount  every  six  months  for  a  term'of  years,  if  she 
would  use  it  for  herself  and  the  two  little  children, 
whom  death  had  thrown  into  her  guardianship. 

The  children  were  asleep  in  their  little  flock  beds, 
dreaming  of  a  coming  Christmas,  for  they  were 
sadly  in  need  of  shoes  and  stockings,  and  Santa 
Claus  had  never  provided  very  liberally  for  them, 
but  now,  through  some  unknown  agency  which 
the  poor  old  widow  never  found  out,  competence 
had  come,  bringing  everything  their  modest  wishes 
called  for,  and  promising  a  delightful  Christmas. 


310  THE   YELLOW  VIOLIN 

The  son  and  uncle  might  come  home  drunk  and 
abusive,  but  his  mother  knew  enough  to  keep  the 
secret  of  her  new-found  gains,  and  she  kept  it,  too. 

With  the  assistance  of  the  professor,  Anne's 
brother,  Ralph,  succeeded  in  getting  his  corn-drop- 
per patented,  and  the  two  boys  went  into  business 
for  themselves. 

Anne  came  into  Marie's  room,  radiant,  one 
morning. 

''Aunty  says  I  may  come  back  here  after  I  gradu- 
ate," she  said,  delightedly.  "Now  all  I  hope  and 
pray  for  is  that  both  aunties  may  meet  Cousin 
Selina  in  her  own  carriage,  yet." 

"I  think  there  is  no  doubt  but  they  will/'  said 
Marie,  softly. 

"Oh,  isn't  that  delightful!"  Anne  exclaimed.  "I 
knew  it,  when  I  saw  the  professor  put  that  ring  on 
her  finger.  The  dear,  delightful  man  !  Oh,  Marie, 
I'm  afraid  I  envy  you  your  father. 

Sweetest  Marie  became  a  brilliant  and  versatile 
performer  on  the  violin,  but  there  was  now  no  oc- 
casion that  she  should  use  her  gift,  save  for  the 
pleasure  of  home  and  her  dear  ones.  Yet  when 
there  is  sore  need  in  the  land,  or  some  occasion  that 


PEACE,    HOPE   AND    HOME,    AT    LAST  311 

calls  for  sacrifice  of  time  and  money,  she  is  always 
ready  with  the  yellow  violin,  which 

Teems  with  its  piercing  melody  to  reach 

The  soul,  and  in  mysterious  unison 

Blends  with  all  thoughts  of  gentleness  and  love. 


NAPOLEON,  THE  WORLD'S  GREATEST  HERO 

NAPOLEON,  LOVER  AND  HUSBAND 

By  FREDERIC  MASSON,  translated  by  J.  M.  Howell.  If  there  is  any 
figure  in  the  world's  history  that  the  present  age  might  suppose  that  it 
knew,  Napoleon  Bonaparte  would  be  taken  as  preeminently  the  best 
known;  and  yet,  the  real  Napoleon,  the  Lover  and  Husband,  has  been 
fairly  left  untouched  until  to-day.  Frederic  Masson  reveals  the  lover  side 
of  Napoleon  in  the  most  fascinating  manner,  and  shows  that  his  greatest 
enterprises  have  been  to  a  grave  extent  influenced  or  modified  by  femi- 
nine associations.  Polished  buckram ;  gold  side  and  back  stamps ;  gilt 
top  ;  320  pages  ;  printed  on  fine  paper.  Price,  $1.45. 

NAPOLEON'S  MILITARY  CAREER 

By  MONTGOMERY  B.  GIBBS.  A  gossipy,  anecdotal  account  of  Napoleon 
as  his  marshals  and  generals  knew  him  on  the  battlefield  and  around  the 
camp-fire.  Reveals  something  new  on  every  page  concerning  this  son  of 
a  poor  Corsican  gentleman  who  "played  in  the  world  the  parts  of  Alex- 
ander, Hannibal,  Caesar,  and  Charlemagne." 

"The  illustrations  beginning  with  the  famous  'snuff-box'  portrait  are 
capital,  and  the  book  is  a  dignified  adjunct  to  modern  study  of  a  redoubt- 
able giant." —  Chicago  Herald. 

Crown  8vo.,  with  32  full-page  illustrations.  Nearly  6o»pages.  Half  green 
leather,  gilt  top  and  back  ;  English  laid  paper,  uncut  edges.  Price,  $1.25. 

NAPOLEON  FROM  CORSICA  TO  ST.  HELENA 

By  JOHN  L.  STODDARD.  A  pictorial  work  illustrating  the  remarkable 
career  of  the  most  famous  military  genius  the  world  has  ever  known.  It 
contains  pictures  of  all  of  Napoleon's  marshals  and  generals,  his  relatives, 
the  famous-  places  where  Napoleon  lived  as  Emperor,  and  the  monuments 
erected  to  perpetuate  his  brilliant  achievements  on  the  battlefields  of 
Europe.  The  pictures  in  themselves  constitute  a  priceless  collection,  and 
the  descriptions  by  John  L.  Stoddard  a  truthful  history  of  the  great  hero. 

De  Luxe  edition,  bound  in  cloth,  gilt  edges,  20  full-page  colored  plates 
prepared  expressly  in  France,  11x14  inches.  Price,  $4.00. 

Plain  edition,  bound  in  green  linen  with  Napoleonic  coat-of-arms  in 
silver  embossed  on  cover.  Price,  $2.00. 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  THE  PRIVATE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON 

By  CONSTANT,  Premier  Valet  de  Chambre  ;  translated  by  Walter  Clark. 
Three  superb  volumes,  cloth,  handsomely  stamped  in  gold.  Although 
first  published  in  1830,  it  has  just  recently  been  translated  into  English. 
Notes  have  been  added  by  the  translator,  greatly  enhancing  the  interest  of 
the  original  work  of  Constant. 


Napoleon's 

Foibles, 

Peculiarities, 

Vices, 

Kindness  of  Heart, 

Vast  Intellect. 

Knowledge  of  Men, 

Extraordinary  Energy,  and 

Public  Spirit 
are  depicted  without  reserve. 


This  man  has  been  studied  as  a  sol- 
dier, a  statesman,  an  organizer,  and  a 
politician,  but,  although  he  was  unde- 
niably great  in  all,  men  will  always  seek 
to  know  something  about  Napoleon  as  a 
man.  These  volumes  will  supply  the 
desired  information,  for  they  are  written 
by  one  who  joined  him  in  1800,  and  was 
with  him  constantly  until  he  laid  down 
the  sceptre  fourteen  years  later. 

Price,  $3-75. 


Any  of  the  above  Books  sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of  price  by 

THE  SAALFIELD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  AKROH,  OHIO 


JOHN  L.  STODDARD'S  POPULAR  PICTORIALS 


GLIMPSES  OF  THE  WORLD 

Hundreds  of  full-page  views  portraying  scenes  all  over  the  world, 
taken  from  photographs  collected  by  the  celebrated  traveler  and  lecturer, 
John  I,.  Stoddard,  who  has  charmingly  described  each  one.  550  pages; 
paper  of  the  richest  and  heaviest  quality  ;  size  11x14  inches.  Unquestion- 
ably the  finest  work  of  the  kind  ever  published. 
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FROM  THE  ATLANTIC  TO  THE  PACIFIC 

A  grand  panorama  of  famous  scenes  and  noted  places  on  our  own  Con- 
tinent. Most  interesting  to  the  student  of  Art,  Science,  or  literature. 
Read  this  page  of  the  world's  history  first ;  be  familiar  with  your  own 
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SUNNY  LANDS  OF  THE  EASTERN  CONTINENT 

A  pictorial  journey  through  the  tropical  countries  of  the  Old  World, 
containing  the  choicest  views  from  Italy,  Greecs,  Turkey,  India,  Syria, 
Palestine,  China,  Japan,  Egypt,  Africa,  Australia,  etc.  People  interested 
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FAMOUS  PARES  AND  PUBLIC  BUILDINGS  OF  AMERICA 

One  hundred  and  twenty-eight  full-page  views  of  the  marvelous  works 
of  Nature  in  the  New  World.  To  those  who  have  seen  these  grand  origi- 
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A  rare  and  elaborate  collection  of  128  views  in  the  historic  countries  of 
Europe  —  a  pictorial  history  of  accomplished  and  fascinating  races.  A 
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THE  SAALFIELD  PUBLISHING  COMPART,  AKRON,  OHIO, 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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